


Life Makes Love Look Hard

by NyxEtoile



Series: Tales From the Tower [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Children, Domestic, Eventual Smut, F/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Romance, Second Chances, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:51:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEtoile/pseuds/NyxEtoile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <img/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> <br/><i>Bruce watched the little boy scribble a moment, then looked back to his mother. “May I ask what you are doing back here again?”</i></p><p>
  <i>Her expression turned wry. “Neil here is an avid Iron Man fan.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The boy looked up. “I’Man!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“That’s right,” his mother said easily. “So we come here for lunch to watch and see if he takes off from the Tower.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“He certainly knows his stuff,” Bruce commented.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“We take our superhero knowledge very seriously.” She smiled at him a moment, then he saw her swallow and she added, “I’m Violet, by the way.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Violet. It suited her. Soft and pretty and old fashioned. “Bruce,” he said, offering her his hand.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>She shook his hand, hers all but disappearing under his fingers. “Would you like to join us for lunch?” she asked quietly.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Feeling oddly shy, he said, “I’d like that very much.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love Bruce Banner but I can't make it through the Hulk solo film. So this is solely based on Mark Ruffalo's version of him in Avengers and what little I know of his background in movies and the comics.
> 
> The majority of this story was written before Ultron was released, or even before the trailers (for those who follow me on Tumblr this was Patience in my writing goals), so it is not a reaction to the Bruce/Nat thing. I've long wanted to write a Bruce/OFC fic and got the idea for this from some personal things that we going on in my life. I admit, I don't think I've ever been as nervous about posting a story as I am for this one. Be kind.
> 
> This is the last multi-chapter story before our Ultron adaption, and thus the end of our "stage two" stories.
> 
> The title is from Taylor Swift's song "Ours."
> 
> Thanks as always, to Olives for the awesome banner.
> 
> Will post Mondays and Thursdays.

_New York City, November, 2016_

Working with Tony Stark was a lesson in patience and flexibility.

There were times in Bruce Banner’s life when no one would have used either of those words to describe him. But life had a funny way of teaching a man things. Sometimes in the hardest way possible.

Fatherhood had not miraculously turned Stark into a responsible and reasonable human being. It had turned him into a sleep deprived and coffee fueled crazy person. For everyone’s sake, Bruce had begun taking long walks at lunch time. If he lingered long enough, then by the time he got back to the lab Stark would be called away to spell Pepper with the baby or have reached the end of his ability to stay awake and passed out somewhere. One day Bruce had gone home at the end of the day to find him asleep on his couch. As if he couldn’t make it all the way up to his penthouse and only made it to the Avenger floor.

Bruce’s cunning plan might be losing its effectiveness now that winter was coming on. It hadn’t snowed yet, but the air was becoming bright and sharp in a way that meant it was coming soon. The wind was so bitter snow might have been a relief. The bright, clear sky seemed to make everything colder.

He was on his way back to the Tower, mentally going over the schematics on the latest generator he and Tony were working on. They were near a break through, he could feel it. As if the answer were at the edge of his peripheral vision. If he turned too quickly he lost it. But if he let his mind wander and ignored it then maybe it would come to him.

Dimly, he heard a woman shout and looked around to search for the source. He didn’t spot the woman immediately, but he did see a little boy sprinting through the milling pedestrians, heading straight for the street. No one seemed to be paying him any mind, as oblivious as any crowd of New Yorkers in a post-lunch coma could be.

Instinctively, Bruce reached out and caught the boy, lifting him a little so he couldn’t fall into traffic. The child shrieked and started to kick and Bruce felt a flicker of worry that someone was going to get the wrong idea, but he held on nonetheless. A misunderstanding was better than a kid in traffic.

A petite woman with a blonde ponytail and a distinct air of panic appeared in front of him. She took in the still shrieking boy, their proximity to the street and sagged in obvious relief.

“Thank you for catching him,” she said, reaching out. The little boy flung himself in her direction, wrapping around her like a koala once Bruce handed him over.

“I’m sorry I scared him. I didn’t want him in the street,” he told her as the child buried his face in her throat, forcing her to tip her chin up.

“It’s all right,” she said and he wasn’t entirely sure if she was talking to him or the boy. “Sometimes physical intervention is the only way.” She rubbed the boy’s back and murmured something to him that made him resettle on her hip, face still hidden in her shoulder. “Thank you,” she said again.

“Happy to help.” He found himself looking at her hand where it stroked the boy’s hair. There was a discoloration on her left ring finger, where a wedding band had sat but was now missing. “Does he run off a lot?”

“Less than he used to. He must have been lulling me into a false sense of security.” She smiled at the little joke and Bruce felt himself smile back automatically.

For a few heartbeats they just smiled at each other. As if the throng of pedestrians surrounding them didn’t exist. Then the light changed and the crowd surged, bumping her a little in the back, shaking them out of their daze.

“I should-” He gestured to the intersection and the people crossing.

“Yes!” She flashed a shy smile, then added, “Of course. Thank you. Have a good day.”

Bruce nodded and stepped away, off the curb and into the tide. He glanced back before he reached the other curb, but the woman and boy were gone, swallowed up by the busy New York afternoon.

*

Violet Marsh loved Thursdays. Thursdays meant no nap, but dinner on time and early to bed for Neil the wonder toddler.

She stood in the bedroom doorway, listening to the quiet snore of an exhausted three year old for a few moments before closing the door all but a crack and moving to the next room.

“Hey, homework done?”

Ada looked up from the book she was reading, sprawled across her bed. “Yeah. I need your initial.”

Vi stepped into the room and walked to the little desk tucked in the corner. A math sheet and a word list sat side by side, covered in Ada’s slanted writing. She scanned them and wrote a small VM in the bottom right corner of both and tucked them in the purple folder Ada would take into school the next day, then went over to kiss the top of her daughter’s head. “Whatcha reading?”

She tipped the book up to show her the cover. “Mouse and the Motorcycle.”

“Excellent choice. Thirty more minutes then it’s teeth brushing time, okay?”

Ada glanced at the clock and nodded. “We’re supposed to journal this weekend, do you think we can do something fun so mine isn’t boring?”

Vi smiled a little. “Art museum?” she offered.

The little girl smiled, showing off her missing front tooth. “That works.”

“Then we have an accord.” She bent and kissed the top of Ada’s head again, reminded her, “Half an hour,” and headed out of the room.

The remnants of dinner were still scattered around the kitchen counters and dining table. She ignored the flicker of exhaustion that told her to just leave it till the morning and popped open her laptop to play some music as she worked on cleaning off the table and washing the dishes. 

As she worked, her mind wandered. To which museum she might mount an expedition to this weekend. To her schedule for tomorrow. To groceries that needed to be restocked and kids clothes that needed to be bought.

To Neil tugging his hand out of hers and running away on a busy street. The panic and fear she’d felt in her mad sprint. And the soft spoken man with unruly hair and gentle smile at the end of it.

She could feel herself smiling at the thought, surprising herself. He was just a guy. One of a dozen random encounters with strangers she had every day. There was no reason to be smiling like an idiot over her dishes about him. She didn’t even know his name.

Well, her therapist would tell her it was a good sign. Interest in a man, even fleeting, was a big step. She had an appointment with her on Monday, maybe if nothing else exciting had happened before then she’d mention it.

When the dishes were lined up on the drying rack, she wiped down the counters and table and set up Ada’s lunch and breakfast for the next day. Then it was bedtime for the big girl.

Then it was nine o’clock and Violet stood in the living room pondering the benefits of watching TV for a while before going to bed. There was a certain bleakness to going to bed at nine. She had to be up at six, though, and generally it was better to sleep when Neil was sleeping.

Still. Nine o’clock.

“One show,” she told herself. “On Netflix. No commercials. Then bed.”

She grabbed her laptop and made a cup of decaf on the little one-shot machine her mother had sent for Christmas. Then she curled up on her couch with both to watch an episode of a fantasy show that was on a few years ago, when she was too busy with an infant and a toddler and bills and paperwork to watch television.

She was in bed before ten thirty, which wasn’t exactly indicative of a life of thrills and adventure. But Neil was still out and snoring and she liked eight hours of sleep a lot more than adventure any day.

 _Don’t worry about it, Vi_ she told herself as she set her alarm and settled under the covers. _You were never cool to begin with._


	2. Chapter 2

“Tony, this can’t possibly be healthy.”

Bruce watched his friend, the great Tony Stark, Iron Man himself, in a pair of stained sweatpants and no shirt, halfheartedly tinkering on their generator.

The baby had cried all weekend. Bruce knew this because despite several floors and top of the line sound proofing between their apartments he had heard her wailing on and off at all hours. When Tony hadn’t come into the lab on Monday Bruce had hoped he’d decided to take a day to catch up on sleep. Maybe several, if Ruby was having a rough patch. Apparently that had been false hope and Stark had simply given up on anything resembling circadian rhythm.

“I’m fine,” he said, not looking up from the equipment he was close to mangling.

“You’re trying to screw a nut in with an awl.”

Tony blinked and looked at the tool in his hand as if he’d never seen it before. He put it down carefully and stared at the workbench. “I was lost in thought.”

Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. “Last night, at three in the morning, you sent me an email detailing the plot of a recent animated movie and tried to convince me snow magic was the next step in cooling technology.”

Tony glared. “Your point?”

“You have a three week old. Even you need to sleep and shower and eat. Go up to your penthouse, take paternity leave, and come back when your daughter isn’t keeping you up all night.”

The other man’s shoulders slumped. “My father never took any time off.”

Oh, they did not have the time or resources to start unearthing father issues. “Your dad also never spend a night pacing the halls with you while you cried, did he?” Tony didn’t respond, which was answer enough. “Go home, Tony. Sleep when she sleeps, like all the advice books say. Take turns holding her while you and Pepper shower and eat. Be a father and partner first instead of Tony Stark. The world will be waiting for you to save it when you’re done.”

He wasn’t entirely sure how much of that sank in, but it got Tony up and staggering to the door. He stopped briefly and patted Bruce’s shoulder. For a second he looked like he might say something serious, then he changed his mind, gave the shoulder a little squeeze and headed out.

 Bruce listened to his shuffling steps in the hallway. “JARVIS, can you make sure he actually makes it to his floor?”

“On it, sir.”

Nodding to himself, he went over to the work bench to see how much he had to fix. He retightened a few things Tony had managed to loosen. Snagged on one of the panels was a tiny, hand-knit, pink bootie. 

Ignoring the stab of pain and jealousy it caused, Bruce carefully unhooked it from the rough metal. He rubbed a thumb along the careful stitches.

_I don’t every time get what I want._

In the back of his mind, something _stirred_. Bruce shoved the sock into his pocket and took a few deep breaths. 

_Settle._ He didn’t know how much the Other Guy understood. But he responded to him more and more, to the point where these little moments were more like checking in than real threats. As if he was asking Bruce if he needed him.

It had taken a long time to think of that other part of him as something that could be, if not benign, then at least not intentionally destructive. For now he was going with Tony’s theory that the Other Guy sought to protect him and the best way to keep him leashed was to assure him there was no danger.

Not that the Other Guy could do much about this grief, being the cause of it.

He shook his head and settled his glasses on his face, turning back to the generator. Not the time or place to be thinking about this.

The little bootie burned a hole in his pocket all morning, try as he did not to think about it. He worked on the generator, went over reports from one of the other labs and monthly statistics from the Calcutta hospital.

At lunchtime he took a detour up to the fortieth floor where the infirmary was housed. He didn’t generally have much cause to visit. Whether by luck or a side effect of his. . . condition he was generally healthy. He knew Dr. Newbury, of course. They’d had Thanksgiving dinner together at Tony’s and he had been part of the group to rescue her when Hydra had kidnapped her the year before. But other than the physical she’d been obliged to give him when she came on board, he hadn’t needed her professional services.

She was sitting at her desk, sucking on a lollipop and humming along to the music trickling from the speakers. Her brows went up when he came in and she pulled the lollipop out to say, “This is a surprise.”

“I’m not here for me. I think you might want to check in on Tony if you get a chance. He’s running himself a little ragged.”

Her mouth thinned into an exasperated line. “I was afraid of that. I’ve been trying to give them space to do their new parent thing but. . . I’ll drop by today.”

“Thank you.” He dug in his pocket and stepped forward to put the bootie on her desk. “Maybe you can return that when you do? He dropped it in the lab.”

She smiled at the sight of it and picked it up. “I will. Else they’ll want me to make them a new set and I’m going to be busy with my own, soon.” Dr. Newbury had announced her pregnancy just before Ruby was born. The place was going to be crawling with kids soon.

He nodded and managed a smile, but it must not have been very convincing. Her expression sobered and she tilted her head. “Are you all right, Dr. Banner?”

“Fine,” he said immediately, backing up towards her door. “Thank you for asking.”

She looked unconvinced, but he ducked out of the door before she could pursue the questions. He spent the elevator ride down to the lobby pondering his mood.

He _was_ all right, in the grand scheme of things. He had friends. Important work that interested and stimulated him. His equilibrium with the Other Guy was solid. He was even comfortable enough he let him out occasionally to go a few rounds with Thor. He had little to complain about.

And yet. . . There was always and yet. No one was ever going to make booties for a child of his. No sleepless nights. No nursery.

_I don’t every time get what I want._

Maybe it was time to move out of the Tower. Not stop working with Tony, but find his own place. This was a wound that would never heal as long as he was surrounded by growing families. He could be content without children. Content with the life he had carved out for himself. But only if he had the chance to finish mourning the one he’d lost.

His dark thoughts had taken him out of the Tower and down the street on his lunchtime walk, even though he had no Stark to escape from. Well, it wasn’t snowing. He should probably enjoy the weather while it lasted. The news last night had been talking about a storm of the century coming for Thanksgiving. These walks would get less pleasant in two feet of slush.

He was coming up on the cafe Steve Rogers liked to go to sketch. It had taken the better part of six months to rebuild after the battle of New York, but now four years out it was as strong as ever, sporting a sign in the window that said it was Captain America’s favorite restaurant.

At one of the outdoor tables, parked directly under the heat lamp, was the blonde woman and the little boy. Bruce’s stride faltered when he recognized her and he briefly considered turning around and heading back.

Then she looked up from her meal and locked gazes with him. He watched recognition and surprise cross her face. Then she smiled widely, just as he reached her. “We’re not stalking you, I swear,” she said.

He couldn’t help but smile, resting his hand on the metal fence that surrounded the outdoor eating area. “I’d be a very boring person to stalk.”

“That’s just as well, I’d probably be terrible at it.” She gave a little gesture at the curly haired boy sitting next to her.

He seemed to be completely distracted with the coloring book and crayons he had set up in front of him. Bruce watched the little boy scribble a moment, then looked back to his mother. “May I ask what you are doing back here again?”

Her expression turned wry. “Neil here is an avid Iron Man fan.”

The boy - Neil - looked up. “I’Man!”

“That’s right,” his mother said easily. “So we come here on Tuesdays and Thursdays to watch and see if he takes off from the Tower.”

Bruce couldn’t help but glance back at said Tower. “He hasn’t been out much lately, I imagine.”

“No,” she conceded. “But we have seen a few planes take off.”

“Jtts,” the boy told her seriously.

“Jets, sorry.”

“He certainly knows his stuff,” Bruce commented.

“We take our superhero knowledge very seriously.” She smiled at him a moment, then he saw her swallow and she added, “I’m Violet, by the way.”

“Violet,” he repeated softly. “That’s not a name you hear very often.”

“That’s very true. I have had a lifetime of being unable to find my name on mugs and magnets to prove it.”

Violet. It suited her. Soft and pretty and old fashioned. “Bruce,” he said, offering her his hand.

She shook his hand, hers all but disappearing under his fingers. “Would you like to join us for lunch?” she asked quietly.

For a moment it was like everything around him froze. Sounds grew muffled and dull. People were no longer jostling him lightly from behind. He didn’t remember the last time someone had offered such an invitation.

Feeling oddly shy, he said, “I’d like that very much.”

*

Bruce was an odd man.

Not in a creepy or scary way. Not enough to make Violet regret asking him to join them. But a little odd nonetheless.

His hands never seemed to still. He folded them over each other or steepled them. Gesturing when he talked was also common. He wasn't a big man, broad but not tall, but he hunched his shoulders forward as if trying to make himself smaller. Or as if he was expecting a blow.

But his smile was soft and sincere and his eyes were very sad. She didn't know why that excused the strange behavior, but it did, at least in part. She understood grief like that, that changed the way you saw the world and the way the world saw you.

They managed to keep up a reasonable patter of small talk - the weather, the upcoming holidays, what Neil was drawing - until the waitress brought his meal. Then she ventured into the next level of chit chat. "So, do you work around here?"

He looked a little startled. "I. . . yes." He gestured vaguely behind him. "A few blocks away. I like to walk on my lunch. Clear my head."

"What do you do?" In her head she tried to guess. First blush she wanted to say professor, though she couldn't really picture him wrangling a class full of teenagers. Maybe some sort of doctor?

"I'm a scientist."

She hadn't known you could just be a scientist. "What do you study?"

He hesitated and she couldn't tell if it was because he didn't want to tell her or because he didn't know how to explain it in layman terms. He finally settled on, "Radiation. But not the scary kind."

Violet smiled. "So I shouldn't start hoping this table is lead lined?"

His chuckle was as soft and gentle as the rest of him. "No. I'm harmless at the moment." He paused to take a sip of his herbal tea. "What do you do? Other than raising Neil."

Oh, bonus points for acknowledging motherhood as a job. “I was a teacher. High school English. I took time off when I had my daughter, then again after Neil. Haven’t gone back yet.”

“How old is your daughter?”

“Six. She’s at school right now. Laurel Crown Academy.”

He blinked and his brows went up. “The gifted school.”

Violet knew she was grinning. “You’ve heard of it?”

“A, uh, friend told me about it. He’s done some charity work there.”

She didn’t know what was more interesting, that he had a friend who was involved in Laurel or that this fact made him fidgety. “She loves it. It’s challenging, but she’d be bored somewhere else. Plus their extracurricular classes are top notch.” She drank some of her mocha. “That’s actually one of the reasons we’re here. Neil and I. He has pre-school Tuesday and Thursday mornings, then we come here for lunch on the way to pick her up.”

Bruce looked over at Neil, watched him scribble frantically. She could see the wheels turning in his head, watched him hunt for a polite way to phrase what he’d noticed. “He seems very. . young for preschool.”

Well, that was more tactful than most. “It’s a special needs preschool,” she said and Bruce looked back at her face. “Neil has cognitive delays. Most likely autism spectrum, but he’s too young to make a diagnosis.”

His face softened. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said -”

She waved a hand. “It’s all right. I’m impressed you noticed, most people don’t. Do you have kids?”

The sadness in his eyes deepened and she immediately regretted mentioning it. “No,” he said quietly, picking up his tea again. “No kids. Wasn’t in the cards.”

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely.

He nodded and took a moment to drink his tea before continuing. “What about your husband? Is he an involved parent?”

This conversation just kept getting better and better. “He was,” she said. “He died three years ago, when Neil was a baby.”

Bruce winced visibly and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. “Jesus, I’m-”

“No. No more apologies. It’s all right, you didn’t kill him.”

He offered a little smile. “How did it happen?”

She took a deep breath and was surprised that the usually sharp, chest tightening pain she felt at the idea of Hal was now much duller and easier to talk around than it had once been. “Aneurism,” she said. “Went to sleep while I took my shift with Neil. I fell asleep on the couch with him, woke up just before dawn. When I went to wake him up for his shift with the baby. . . he was already cold.”

Bruce had sat still as she spoke, but his hands twitched when she finished, as if he wanted to reach out, maybe touch hers in comfort. It passed, though, and he stayed on his side of the table. “There was nothing you could have done,” he said quietly.

“Yes, I spent the first six months of therapy coming to terms with that.” She smiled thinly. “It was just one of those things. No rhyme or reason. Just. . . life.” She studied him. “I feel like you know a thing or two about that.”

He ducked his head and nodded. “That I do.”

Silence stretched again, though not awkward, despite the dark mood. Her phone chimed in her pocket, indicating it was time to go get Ada. Neil looked up and lifted his hands, announcing, “Done!” at the sound.

She smiled. “Yes, I have to be going.” She took one last swig of her mocha. “It was very nice talking to you,” she told Bruce, meaning every word. “I’m glad we ran into each other.”

“So am I,” he said voice still quiet. He watched her gather up her things and unbuckle Neil from his highchair before saying, “You’re here every Tuesday?”

Violet felt an odd prickle of excitement at the question. It was the same feeling she’d had in high school, when she realized the captain of the swim team was talking to her because he thought she was pretty and not just because she could help him pass American Lit. “And Thursdays,” she said. “Oh, but not next week. Because of the holiday.”

He smiled, which probably meant she sounded as eager as she felt. “Then I will see you in December.”

She braced Neil on her hip and scooped up her overstuffed purse. “Until December.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earlyish chapter because I feel like death and don't want to forget.

Tony and Pepper hosted Thanksgiving every year for anyone on the team who wanted to come. Most of them didn’t have family to speak of, so turnout was usually good and seemed to be growing every year. This year had included several rounds of “pass the baby,” as well as the traditional deep fried turkey and Barnes having to cut off his four-months pregnant fiancee from eating all the mashed potatoes. This had lead to Pepper describing the joys of gestational diabetes and Amanda countering with a lecture on how eating habits had no bearing on the acquiring of GD. It had been an interesting medical discussion, if not entirely appropriate dinner conversation.

Now the pie had been served, coffee was being passed around, and Bruce was relaxing in the sitting area mostly alone. Darcy Lewis and her boyfriend were at the end of the mostly cleared off table with Jane and Thor. Darcy was cradling Ruby in one arm and shaking a rattle at her with the other hand. Bruce didn’t know either of them well, but based on the rather besotted look on Cal’s face he guessed a ring was going to be offered in the near future. Time marched on, it seemed.

The expected stab of envy was smaller and duller than usual. He tried not to think about why that might be. Because he was pretty sure it had something to do with a pretty single mother with eyes he couldn’t stop thinking about. Blue eyes with gold rings around the pupils. There was a word for that, a stupid, simple term for it. It was on the tip of his tongue, had been for over a week, but he refused to look it up. It would be cheating.

And now he was thinking about her again. As he had been most of the week. He recalled, very dimly, having crushes in high school and college. Meeting a girl, being enchanted by her in some way. Studying facets of her. Being distracted from his work with thoughts of her. It had been well over twenty years since college, but the memory of those infatuations was familiar. It had been almost as long since he’d felt this way about a woman.

 _Betty_. 

Ah, thinking about Betty was worse than thinking about Violet. And yet the two seemed inexorably linked in his mind, almost against his will.

Betty hadn’t started out as a crush. Looking back, he couldn’t pinpoint the start of his attraction to Betty. It had happened suddenly, like a lightning strike. Or else it had happened so slowly and subtly he hadn’t realized it was happening until it had made itself known, fully formed and impossible to ignore.

He hadn’t seen her in years, not since Harlem. Before the Avengers, before Calcutta. He’d thought of her a great deal after the Battle of New York, when Tony had convinced him to stay in the world instead of hiding from it. Surely she would have seen the news, seen the Hulk jumping from building to building. Helping for once, instead of hurting. For the first few months, he had half expected an email or phone call. Maybe even for her to just show up at the Tower demanding to see him. But there had been no word, not from her. He saw mention of her now and again, in scientific journals. She was doing well with her own career. She looked happy in pictures. All evidence pointed to her having moved on. Found peace without him. He couldn’t find it in himself to begrudge her that. Though it, like so much in his life, caused that spike of envy to dig in a little deeper.

Natasha Romanov sank onto the couch next to him. He’d half thought she’d left. Barton wasn’t much for company at the best of times and neither of them was particularly enamored with the baby, though for different reasons than his own, he imagined. “Natasha,” he said in greeting.

“Bruce.” She studied him in that way she had that sometimes made him nervous. “You were quiet tonight.” He arched a brow and she added, “-Er than usual.”

He smiled and looked down at his hands a moment. He had wanted to reach out to Violet when she spoke of her husband. Her words had been simple, factual, without emotion, voice calm. But her eyes. . . Those two tone eyes had been haunted and sad. Much the way his were, he supposed, when he thought about the darker moments of his life.

_“I feel like you know a thing or two about that.”_

No, he’d never woken up to the cold body of a loved one. But he and death were hardly strangers. He could have taken her hand. Could have touched her in that moment of understanding. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he told Natasha. Not entirely a lie.

“Good thoughts or bad thoughts?” she asked and there was no judgement in it. No thread of worry that bad thoughts would make the Other Guy rise to the surface. Nat had the most reason to fear the other half of him and yet he never saw any fear in her.

“A bit of both.” 

She nodded slowly, looking out at the room, gaze scanning the others. “This must be hard. Watching the rest of us move on with our lives.”

Bruce chuckled a little. “You do cut straight to the chase, don’t you, Natasha?”

“It’s my way,” she said. “Recently, anyway. I could turn on the Widow, if you like.”

“No, no. Natasha will do just fine.” He looked at her. “It is hard. I become more of an odd man out every year.”

He hadn’t realized how true that was until he’d said it out loud. Everyone was coupled up. Even Steve was seeing someone, to the point of taking an extended vacation with Sharon Carter earlier this month. Bruce remained the only Avenger with no one.

Cool fingers curled around his hand. “You don’t have to be alone. You have a good handle on it. The Other Guy.”

“A good handle is not control. Or safety.” Natasha was a small woman, but he thought Violet was probably smaller. Her hand would look even more petite against his. He shouldn’t be thinking about that.

“It’s not nothing, either,” Nat said. “You can’t spend the rest of your life alone. We all deserve love, Bruce. People.”

“I have people,” he said, voice rougher than he would have liked. “I have all of you. It’s more than I thought to have, once upon a time. It’s enough.”

She didn’t looked convinced and he certainly didn’t sound convincing, even to his own ears. But she squeezed his hand and let it go. “I spent a lot of my life hiding from my feelings. Assuring myself that what I had with Clint was nothing. Was just sex. Was just relief from stress. Was just this or that. And then I almost lost him, without ever admitting he was mine to lose.”

Bruce remembered her in Calcutta. Cool, calm and professional until he startled her and forced her to show her hand. And show it she had, right down to telling him about her relationship with Barton, something very few people had known at the time. It had been, quite possibly, the only thing that would get him to come with her peacefully.

 _"Love is a worthy cause,”_ he’d told her. “It seems to have worked out for you.”

She smiled and looked away from him to watch Barton a moment. “It has.” Nat looked back to him. “Don’t be so afraid of it you don’t see it when it comes your way.”

He offered her a smile, but didn’t respond, and after a moment she gave a little nod and walked away to join Barton and the others.

*

Violet almost didn’t go to the cafe the Tuesday after Thanksgiving. It was a bad morning. Ada wasn’t used to going back to school and had stayed up too late the night before. A grumpy six year old was remarkably similar to a grumpy teenager. Violet got sighed at four times and snapped at twice while also trying to wrangle a disgruntled three year old who absolutely, positively, did not want to wear a shirt today despite the fact it was actively snowing by the time they reached Ada’s school.

She had two and a half good hours while Neil was in pre school, enough time to run home, do laundry, pick up the living room and change the sheets on everyone’s bed before having to run back out to pick him up. There, his teacher gave her a green slip, indicating Neil had one “misbehaving moment” when he bit another little boy that took a truck he had been playing with. Personally, Vi found that a perfectly reasonable response for a non-verbal child who’d had something stolen from him, but that was probably just the mood she was in.

So it was with a vague sense of dread that she walked out of the subway station towards Avengers Tower and the cafe. There was no way Bruce was going to be there. None. It was snowing. She’d only talked to him once. They hadn’t made firm plans to see each other. He could have meant next week. Or Thursday. Or he could have gotten busy or distracted with work. Hell, with her luck, maybe he got hit by a bus.

 _Okay, get a grip, Vi._ That was an awful thing to think. She pressed her cold nose into Neil’s hat and took a breath of his familiar scent, trying to drive the self pity away.

The outside seating at the restaurant was empty, without even the heat lamps turned on. She was a little worried the inside would be too crowded and loud for Neil, but when she went in, it was barely half-full and well designed acoustically. And best of all, in one corner, near the windows, there was a familiar mop of untidy black hair above a pair of hunched shoulders.

Bruce smiled at her when she reached the empty seat across from him. “You made it.”

“It was a near thing. I barely dodged the plague of locusts.” She slipped Neil into the high chair Bruce had apparently thought to set up, then sank into her chair. “It’s good to see you.”

Obviously, that was the right this to say, his smile widened. “I almost didn’t come,” he admitted, hands fidgeting with the handle of his mug of tea.

She paused in the process of shedding her coat and scarf and looked at him. “Why not?”

He looked down. “I don’t know. Thought I might have misread something. That it would be too pushy to just show up again.”

“I practically invited you to meet me here.” She thought she’d been pretty obvious.

His shrug was matched with a little half smile. “I had two weeks to convince myself otherwise.”

It probably shouldn’t reassure her that he appeared to be as bad at this as she was. But she did feel oddly as if some pressure had been taken off. “I’m glad to see you,” she reiterated. “It’s nice to have adult company.” That sounded bad. “I mean another adult. To talk to. About adult things.” Even worse, Vi. “I mean-”

Bruce was laughing. “I know what you meant,” he told her, waving a hand to get her to stop digging. “A friend just had a baby. I’m witnessing the cognitive diminishing of early parenthood.”

She laughed. “Oh, God. One day when Ada was maybe three weeks old I opened the fridge to find a load of dirty laundry shoved into it. And, naturally, a stack of Tupperware in the washing machine.” She grinned at Bruce covered his mouth as he laughed. “I never let Hal hear the end of it.”

He sobered fairly quickly. “Hal. That was your husband.”

“Yes,” she said quietly. “Henry, actually, but I called him Hal. From Shakespeare.”

“Not 2001?” The tease was very gentle, almost hesitant. As if he wasn’t quite sure how far to push the conversation.

“No. But he would occasionally sing the Violet Beauregard song from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. When he wanted to annoy me.”

Bruce laughed again. “How did you meet?”

“College. He tutored me in Calculus and I edited his English essays for him. Opposites definitely attracted in our case.” She paused as the waitress came by with a mocha for Violet and a juice box for Neil. When she gave Bruce a questioning look he shrugged and looked sheepish. It had been a long time since anyone had known her well enough to order for her.

“He liked math?” Bruce prompted after she’d set up the juice box and gotten a couple of sips of coffee into herself.

“Yes. He wasn’t a prodigy or anything, but he liked numbers. Logic and reason. He became a software designer. Named our daughter after Ada Lovelace so I got to name our son after Nathaniel Hawthorne.” She sipped her coffee again and said, “Who was she?”

His brow furrowed, eyebrows drawing together. “She?”

“Whoever you lost that made you look so sad.” Violet wasn’t usually this blunt, but sometimes it was better to get things out in the open. She didn’t want to be the only one pouring out old wounds.

Bruce went quiet and she busied herself helping Neil with his juice again and pulling out her phone so he could play a numbers game on it. She realized belatedly that pushing might shatter whatever fragile thing was growing between them. She was mentally cursing herself when he finally spoke.

“Her name is Betty.” Violet looked over to find him staring down into his tea. “She didn’t die. I just. . . lost her, as you said. Circumstances weren’t ideal and. . . I was in a very bad place.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just thought. . . “

He waved a hand and she watched him swallow hard before he spoke. “No, I was asking you about your husband you have every right to-”

“I don’t mind you asking, really. You can ask.”

They both lapsed into silence after talking over each other. She waited until he looked at her before she offered a smile. “Truce? Let old wounds fester a little longer?”

He nodded and lifted his head to look at her more fully. “Agreed.”

The rest of the meal was full of more pleasant topics. There wasn’t much he could tell her about his work. But he had funny stories about his coworkers and one hilarious one about he and his friends at a strip club. He seemed to realize about halfway through it had the potential to be inappropriate for mixed company, but once he’d started it she insisted he finish.

At one point Neil got bored and restless, grilled cheese abandoned and chopped fruit successfully mushed up. Violet was pretty sure that was the end of the conversation, but Bruce pulled out his Stark phone and brought up an astronomy app. Within seconds, Neil was exploring the cosmos, tongue stuck out in concentration. It bought them another twenty minutes, bringing them right up to when she needed to go pick up Ada.

She walked away feeling like the sidewalk was made of pillows, her bad morning forgotten.

And so it was the next week and the week after. Bruce met her and Neil at the cafe and they talked about everything and nothing. Neither of them mentioned seeing each other over Christmas, but the last Tuesday before the break it was very hard to say goodbye. Violet briefly considered hugging him, but thought better of it. She had begun to warm up to the idea of a relationship, the first romantic one she'd considered since Hal had died. But if she thought about it too hard the idea overwhelmed her, so she needed to come at it sideways. Bruce seemed content with the snail's pace they were moving at, so she didn't push it any farther.

Christmas was the hectic blur it always was. They took the train into New Haven where her father picked them up. The kids loved playing in the snow at Grandma's and the mountain of gifts that appeared under her tree Christmas morning. Violet fielded the usual string of questions about her mental health (Just fine, thank you. Stress is a part of living. Yes, I'm eating just fine), the kids health (Same as always. Ada loves school, she needs the challenge. Neil will talk someday, we're working on it.), her romantic options (Still none of your business.), and her continued lack of a job (The money from Hal's life insurance will last a bit longer, Neil needs me at home now. I know how to keep a budget. No, I'm not just eating Ramen and SPAM, thank you for asking.). 

Her parents meant well, and she wouldn't have made it through the first few months of widowhood without their support. They worried, like all parents did. So she did her best to reassure them without sacrificing her privacy. Her mother probably would have delighted in hearing about Bruce and their standing lunch date. But Violet wasn't quite ready to share him quite yet. It would lead to more questions than she had answers for. So she did her best, lied by omission and kept him in the secret place in her heart where she thought of him as living.

2017 dawned crisp and clear with her little family back in their apartment in New York. Ada tried to stay up to see the ball drop and missed it by 40 minutes. Neil had a wild day and almost got to see the new year reach California. Cabin fever set in by the second, but school started up again on the fourth. And the fifth was a Tuesday.

Bruce was waiting at what she was beginning to think of as "their" table. She set Neil in his high chair and sank into her seat where a mocha was already waiting.

"Happy New Year," he said softly.

And she looked up into those big, sad, brown eyes and realized that, snail's pace or not, she was already gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Tuesdays were quickly becoming Bruce's favorite day of the week.

They probably shouldn't be. The thought was quiet, instinctive, and impossible to suppress. It came from the dark, angry part of him that knew he couldn't get attached, couldn't start a life with a woman with two children. It was the part of him that knew that if Violet knew who he was - who he _really_ was - she'd never speak to them. The rest of him knew that when that happens it would hurt. Not the way losing Betty hurt. That was losing something he had, that he was sure he would always have. This would be like losing the hope of something. The light at the end of his long, dark tunnel would flicker and go out and he’d be alone in the dark again.

But for now, he enjoyed Tuesdays. Enjoyed having her drink waiting for her and helping her cut up Neil's sandwich. It felt normal. The Other Guy never stirred when he was at lunch with them. It was the best part of his week and he had decided to keep it that way for as long as he could.

Today, however, was not Tuesday. It was Saturday, and Tony Stark was standing in front of him holding a baby and a diaper bag trying to hand him both.

“Tony, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Nonsense, she’s your goddaughter. It’s time you bonded.” He tried to push Ruby into Bruce’s arms again, this time succeeding.

Bruce shifted his grip to support the baby properly and tried again. “I am not a babysitter.”

“You said you worked with kids in India all the time.” Now Tony was putting the diaper bag down. Bruce was losing this discussion.  
 “Yes. As a doctor. With their parents there. You can’t just. . . leave her with me.”

“There’s no one else, buddy.” It was a rare moment of seriousness from Tony Stark and caught Bruce’s attention like nothing else.

“Pepper’s in Europe,” Tony continued. “And someone just blew up a hospital in Oman with Stark tech. I have to go help dig it out. Barton, Romanov and the soldiers are coming with me. There’s no one left to watch Ruby.”

“Amanda-”

“Is coming to run triage. In a gas mask and kevlar, you don’t want to know what that fight with Barnes looked like.”

Undeterred, Bruce tried, “Thor and Jane.”

“In Boston at a conference.” Tony clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’re worried. I know babies make you nervous. I get it. But I trust you. I need you to do this.” He started backing to the door. “I’ll be back by tonight, I promise. Everything you need is in her bag and JARVIS knows her schedule.”

“Tony!”

“Good luck!” he called as he closed the door behind him.

Bruce stared at the closed door a moment, then looked down at the baby he was cradling. She had slept through the jostling of being handed over and her father’s little speech. But apparently the door closing was too much for her, and she opened her eyes and blinked at him. Her face scrunched up into a scowl that was extremely reminiscent of a face Pepper occasionally aimed at Tony, and she began to wail.

In his defense, he tried to soothe her. They paced. They bounced. He even sang. He offered her a blankie, a pacifier and a bottle, all to no avail.

Scientific research had shown that a baby’s cry triggered certain primitive parts of the human brain. It was why people found it so grating, it spoke to them on an instinctive level, pushing them to do something about it. Unfortunately, the more instinctive you got in Bruce’s brain the closer to the Other Guy you got. Which was the last thing he wanted to happen while holding his best friend’s baby daughter.

So he bit the bullet and glanced at the ceiling. “JARVIS? How much information do you need to find someone’s phone number?”

It took frighteningly little information for JARVIS to find Violet’s number. Within a few minutes he was pacing the length of his living room, listening to the phone ring over the intercom and second guessing himself.

“Hello?”

Well, there was the Rubicon. Nothing to do but step on the bridge. “Violet, it’s Bruce.”

There was a slight pause. “Bruce? How did you get my number?”

“I - I’m sorry. I realize this is creepy but I work for Stark Enterprises and I need your help.”

“You work- Wait, is that a baby crying?”

Well, she didn’t hang up. “Yes. You remember the friend I told you with the new baby? His wife is on a business trip and he had an emergency come up.” The funniest thing was that the biggest lie in that sentence was calling Pepper Tony’s wife. “All his usual sitters are busy so he brought her to me but I’m not - babies and I don’t really mix. I know it’s the weekend and you have your kids and you probably-”

“Shh. Just- just stop talking a second.”

He obeyed, pacing the floor with Ruby and bracing for the worst. No more Tuesday lunches. No more meandering conversations covering all manner of topics. No ordering her drink before she got there, no helping Neil or trying to guess what Violet would order. No more normal.

“Okay,” she said, breaking his train of thought. “That’s an uncomfortable cry. Change her diaper and dress her in one less layer than she’s wearing. New parents tend to over dress babies, especially in the winter. You said you worked for Stark, do you live in the Tower?”

He had never heard that tone from her. It was crisp and efficient, but with an odd undertone of warmth. He was pretty sure that was the voice her students had heard when it was time to pay attention to lecture unless they _wanted_ a pop quiz.

“I- yes. I do.”

“All right. I’ll pack up the kids and be there in about half an hour. Just hang in there.”

He stopped in mid pace, unable to believe what he’d just heard. “ _Thank you_.”

She laughed a little. “You’re paying for lunch for like a month.”

“Deal,” he told her.

“See you soon.” The call disconnected.

Bruce looked down at Ruby. “Right. New diaper?”

The fresh diaper and less clothes actually did seem to help a little. The incessant crying stopped and he was able to lay her down on a blanket on the floor and dangle toys over her. This was probably as interactive as you could get with a four month old. But she was pretty cute when she smiled and reached for her rattle.

Exactly twenty eight minutes later there was a knock on his door. He left Ruby on her blanket, figuring she couldn’t get far, and went to open it. Violet stood on the other side, Neil on her hip, an over stuffed canvas shopping bag in her other hand and a miniature version of herself next to her.

“Thank you for coming,” he said quietly.

Violet smiled. “What are friends for?” She put a hand on top of the little girl’s very blonde head. “This is Ada. Ada, this is my friend Bruce.”

“Hi, Mr. Bruce,” she said immediately. “Do you know Dr. Jane Foster?”

She strung the words together, “doctorjanefoster” and he couldn’t help but smile a little. “I do,” he told her, holding the door open so they’d come in. “But I’m afraid she’s not here today.”

Her face fell and he immediately felt like a terrible person. She looked down at the magazine she was holding. “I hoped she’d sign my copy of National Geographic with her picture on the cover.”

“Dr. Foster is in Boston at a conference,” JARVIS said, making Violet and Ada look up at the ceiling. “She’s expected back late tomorrow. If you leave the magazine, I can ensure she signs it and it is returned to you.”

“Who’s that?” mother and daughter asked in unison.

“JARVIS,” Bruce explained. “He runs that place.”

Violet’s brow was furrowed. “He’s. . . a butler?”

“I am an artificial intelligence system designed by Tony Stark,” JARVIS explained. “The name stands for Just A Really Very Intelligent System.”

Ada’s jaw dropped. “You’re a real AI?”

“Indeed.”

She turned to Violet. “Can I play with the AI, Mom?”

Violet had put Neil down and was unpacking the bag she’d brought. “If it’s all right with Mr. JARVIS,” she said, sounding distracted. He saw the moment she realized she was talking about a computer.

Ada looked up at the ceiling but before she could ask JARVIS said, “I’d be happy to answer any questions you have. Perhaps you’d like to use the terminal in the spare room so we don’t disturb the others.”

When the girl looked up at Violet again she gave a little nod and Ada ran off, following the lighting path that JARVIS provided.

Ruby started to fuss from her spot in the living room, probably aware she was being ignored and channeling her father. Violet pulled a shoe box out of the bag she’d brought, opened it in front of Neil and went over to the baby. “Hello there,” she said quietly. She scooped the baby up and rested her against her shoulder.

Watching her hold and coo at the baby just about made up for any awkwardness and embarrassment he might have felt about calling her for help. Violet looked completely natural and at ease with a baby in her arms. The sight of it made the dangerous pressure he’d felt building up ever since Ruby had started crying ease and settle. He was starting to think the Other Guy liked Violet, the way he liked Natasha or listened to Steve.

“Diaper bag?” she asked, shaking him out of his reverie. He pointed to where Tony had left it and she carried the baby over and crouched, digging in it to find a bottle. “Shall we see if it’s nap-time?” she asked Ruby. “I think I see a yawn.”

“You can use the bedroom,” Bruce offered, pointing the way. “It’ll be darker.” She glanced at him, something unreadable in her eyes and he realized he’d just invited her to his bedroom. “I’ll stay out here,” he added. “With Neil.”

Violet smiled. “Call if you need something,” she told him, heading to the bedroom. She closed the door behind her and Bruce sank down on the sofa with a sigh.

He took a moment to just appreciate the lack of wailing baby, then looked over to see what Neil was doing. The shoebox Violet had opened for him appeared to be full of toy cars, which he had dumped out and was now lining up. He was doing it with such care there had to be some sort of logic to it. So Bruce slid off the couch and went to sit next to him and watch the process.

The cars were being sorted by color. Red in one line, blue in another. Then yellow, white, black and silver. A few odd colored ones were off to one side, as if waiting for a second one of the same color to make them worthy of a line.

Taking a chance, Bruce picked up one of the not-yet-sorted cars and put it with the red ones. Neil glanced at the car, then him, almost suspiciously. “Red,” Bruce offered.

Neil glanced back at the line and gave a little nod. “Red.”

Most of what the little boy said was hard to understand, though after several lunches Bruce was learning to decipher it. But his colors and numbers were very clear, at least in part because they were the things he was most interested in. Violet was constantly interrupting her conversation to confirm that yes, the plate was white and the ketchup red or yes, he did, in fact, have seven french fries left.

Bruce sorted another car, this one yellow. Neil watched him carefully to make sure it went in the right spot, confirming, “Yeyow,” when it did. Then, to Bruce’s surprise, the boy picked up a car and held it out to him. Bruce took it and Neil watched him expectantly. It was green, so Bruce scanned the reject pile till he found another green one and lined them together.

Neil broke into the largest grin Bruce had ever seen on him and held out one chubby toddler hand. “Fi!!” Bruce held out his own hand and the little boy slapped it in a high five.

Together, they sorted the rest of the cars, then counted all the lines. Neil got a bit shaky after thirteen, but he followed along with Bruce’s counting and called out twenty whenever they reached it.

When that was done, Neil turned to him and said solemnly, “Css.”

He wracked his brain a moment to think what that could mean. “What?”

“Css.” More urgently this time.

Still no help. “I’m sorry, buddy, I don’t understand.”

He braced himself for a tantrum. But Neil reached out and grabbed his hand and pulled. Bruce let him tug him over to the bag Violet had brought. Inside there were some pull-ups, books, her wallet and phone and a cloth lunch box. Neil patted the box, so Bruce pulled it out and unzipped it to reveal a granola bar, some crackers, string cheese and a sport bottle with pictures of Iron Man on it.

“Oh. _Juice_.”

“Css,” Neil confirmed, holding out an expectant hand. Bruce opened the spout of the bottle and handed it to the toddler, closing up the lunch bag. With bottle firmly between his teeth, Neil got up and settled in Bruce’s lap, then leaned back to drink his juice.

They were still sitting there when Violet came out of the bedroom a few minutes later. She stopped in her tracks when she saw them and for a moment looked like she might tear up. Then she beamed and put a hand to her heart. “I guess he’s finally warmed up to you.”

“We bonded over cars,” he told her. “As men do.”

He could see her swallow, then she nodded. “Ruby is asleep. I was wondering if I could raid your kitchen; I didn’t eat lunch.”

“Of course. I’m not sure how much I have, but-” He carefully moved Neil off his lap and got to his feet, joints creaking a little at having been on the floor for so long.

She smiled and followed him into the kitchen. They managed to cobble together a few sandwiches from his fridge and pantry and ate them on the floor with the kids while Ada chattered about everything JARVIS had told her and Neil went back to his cars. When they were done Violet insisted on cleaning up and he took Ada back to the spare room to show her some of his science books. They weren’t really geared at a six year old, but she seemed fascinated, especially at his ancient collection of encyclopedias. He left her reading the B volume with the caveat that probably half the information would be out of date by now.

He returned to the living room to find Neil stretched on the couch, dozing with a stuffed dragon, and Violet standing at the windows, looking out at the city. It was late afternoon and twilight was starting tint the buildings red and orange. She’d made coffee with lunch and was sipping a fresh mug as she studied the view.

Bruce went to stand next to her. “Thank you again for coming,” he said softly.

She glanced up at him with those bright, two-tone eyes and smiled. “What are friends for?”

His throat dried up at the word. Friends. He had friends, each one hard earned. It had taken a long time - far too long, really - to convince himself he deserved them. He was still trying to make himself believe he deserved anything more than friends. “I definitely owe you several lunches,” he said.

She sipped her coffee, licking her lips to get the last of the flavor. “And now you have my number, we could arrange to meet on days other than Tuesday.”

That. . . that sounded like an invitation for something more than friendship. He sucked in a breath. “We could even do something that wasn’t lunch.” He watched her out of the corner of his eye for her reaction.

Her gaze was very determinedly stuck on the skyline. “That would be fun.”

“Yes, I think it would.” Until she found out who he was. What he was. Until she realized there was no future here, just the inevitable panic and fear.

As if sensing the shift in his mood, she looked up at him again, concern creasing her brow. She didn’t say anything, though, and for a long moment they just looked at each other.

He should kiss her. If this were a movie, this would be the moment when the music swelled and he leaned down for that first kiss. Maybe she’d go up on her toes to meet him halfway. It would be romantic, iconic, with the sunset painted buildings behind them. He had all but talked himself into doing it, just stealing another moment of normalcy before it all came crashing down.

And from his bedroom, Ruby started squawking.

Violet sighed in what sounded a lot like disappointment. “Babies always know,” she muttered. She handed him her coffee cup with a wry smile and went to go get the baby, the moment shattered.

When Ruby was changed and fed again Ada helped him find a good movie in JARVIS’s surprisingly vast library of kid’s films and they all lounged about his living room to watch. Ruby stayed on Violet’s chest for most of it, but she did manage to get the baby back on her blanket on the floor for the duration of a song or two.

It was approaching dinner time and Bruce was starting to wonder if Tony had been grossly under estimating his return time when the front door opened to reveal the man himself. He was out of the suit, but obviously hadn’t showered, hair sweaty and mussed. 

Bruce looked at Violet in time to see her eyes widen in recognition and then Tony was talking. “See? You survived and the baby appears to have survived and I’m home in time for bed-” He stopped, as if he’d suddenly noticed that his daughter was, in fact, sleeping on the shoulder of a women he had never met before. “You’re new.”

To think people found him charming. “Tony, this is Violet. A friend of mine.” He put enough emphasis on ‘friend’ to hopefully protect her from Tony attempting to flirt. “She helped me with Ruby. Violet, Tony Stark.”

She slowly turned to give him a look that said, quite clearly, that she knew perfectly well who he was, thank you very much.

“You know a woman?” Tony asked. “Who doesn’t work with you?” Bruce sighed and closed his eyes. “A pretty one, too.”

Violet stood abruptly. At first he thought it was being called pretty by Tony “On the top 50 hottest men list five years running” Stark that got her moving. But when she spoke she was brusque and professional, and he thought maybe it might have been the fact that Tony was embarrassing him that got her moving.

“She’s had two naps and drank all the bottles you left with her,” she told Tony, handing him Ruby. “You should think about adding some solid foods, soon, she’s obviously hungry.”

Tony frowned, first at her, then the baby. “The books say no solids till six months.”

“Books say lots of things.” Bruce wondered how many people got to sound imperious when telling Tony something. “I started both my kids between four and five months and they did fine. If the milk isn’t satisfying anymore, then it isn’t satisfying. It’ll help her sleep better, too.”

His expression turned thoughtful. “What do you suggest?”

She shrugged. “The books will tell you to mix rice cereal in with her milk.” Bruce ducked his head to hide a smile. “I suggest mashed up avocado or cooked squash. Even some homemade apple sauce. No sugar, though. Start with one thing, try a spoonful or two once or twice a day as a supplement to the bottle. It’s never too early to start good habits.”

“Huh.” He looked back at the baby and smiled. “We’ll give it a try, huh sweetheart?” He looked up at Violet again. “Thanks. And thanks for watching her.” 

“You’re welcome,” she said politely.

Tony then looked at Bruce. “We’ll talk later.”

And with that threat hanging in the air, he grabbed Ruby’s baby bag and headed out the door, presumably up to his penthouse.

Violet waited a few heartbeats after the door closed, as if she was expecting something else to happen. Then she turned to look at Bruce. “That was Tony Stark.”

He stood. It seemed like he should be standing for this. “Yes.”

She took a deep breath through her nose. “Tony Stark and Pepper Potts are your friends with the new baby.”

A knot was forming in his stomach, but he answered, “Yes.”

There was a pause and he could almost see the puzzle pieces fitting together in her head. She might not be able to invent a new element or harness gamma rays, but Violet was far from stupid. When she spoke next, her voice sounded oddly tight. “I think there’s a few things you’ve been less than forthcoming about.”

He sighed, feeling all his hopes for that potential more-than-friendship unravel. “Yes.”


	5. Chapter 5

They ended up back in the kitchen, sitting on opposite sides of his table. Violet had poured herself more coffee but he hadn’t seen her take a sip yet.

Silence stretched. He could hear the TV in the other room, playing a new movie that Ada had found when it was obvious the grown-ups were having a Very Serious conversation. He wished he’d gotten to know her better.

“You aren’t just a scientist, are you,” Violet said quietly. “You’re an expert at something. Scientist with a capital S.”

He nodded, shoulders hunching. “My name is Dr. Bruce Banner. Ada might know the name, even if she doesn’t recognize me. I’m an expert in gamma radiation.”

Her brow crinkled and her eyes squinted, as if maybe she recognized the name. “You work with Tony Stark. And you live in the Tower, in a very nice apartment.” He didn’t respond and she pressed on. “Are you an Avenger?” Bruce nodded, watching that revelation hit her. Her eyes darted back and forth, studying him. Then she asked the million dollar question. “Which one?”

She had to have a pretty good idea. Neil was obsessed with Iron Man, he had no doubt Violet knew the Avengers roster quite well. Everyone knew what Tony, Thor, Bucky and Steve looked like. He obviously wasn’t Natasha. People knew there was an archer, but Clint was very good at not getting photographed. That really left only one option.

“The big green one,” he said softly, unable to look at her.

He heard the breath rush out of her, as if she’d been struck. She stood, chair rattling, and paced away from the table. He expected her to walk right out. Gather up the kids and go, without another word.

But she came back, took her seat again and folded her hands around her mug. “Okay. Okay, how does that work?”

She sounded calm enough he risked looking at her. He couldn’t read her expression. It wasn’t anger, which was something of a relief. But she certainly wasn’t happy. “He’s. . . I was in an accident, during an experiment with gamma rays. I was over exposed and it brought out another side of me. The Other Guy.”

“So you change into him. Like Jekyll and Hyde?”

It was not the first time he’d heard the comparison. One of these days he was going to need to read that book. “If you like. I can control him, to a degree. Guide his actions. And I remember most of what happens when I’m him.”

“Does he know what happens when you’re you?”

“I think so. He reacts to my situation. My mood. If I’m in danger or angry, then he comes out. Whether I like it or not.”

She studied him, fingers so tight on her coffee mug her knuckles were white. “I take it you can’t control him when that happens.” 

“Not-” He broke off and searched for words. He told himself the fact she was asking questions was good. She was smart, she was trying to work this through. She wouldn’t put in the effort if she didn’t care. “Think of him like a guard dog. I have a few commands he’ll listen to. But if he thinks I’m in danger and need defending he’s not going to heel no matter what I say.”

She nodded, looking thoughtful. But when she lifted her coffee to take a sip her hands were shaking. “Is he - I’m sure you’re upset right now. Does he want to come out?”

Bruce could feel Him, feel His attention in the back of his head where he thought of Him living. But there was no pressure, no push for him to recede to let the Other Guy run the show. “No,” he told her. “We’re getting better about emotional upheaval rather than physical danger. And, to be honest, he seems to like you.”

He could see that surprise her, eyes widening slightly. She put her mug down and when she spoke next it sounded more like plain curiosity than interrogation. “How long as it been since you were him?”

“Accidentally, over two years. But I am an Avenger and when he’s needed I let him out. There was a mission over the summer and another one just before we met.”

There was a stretch of silence after that. Violet stared down into her coffee mug for what felt like a long time. “You should have told me,” she said quietly.

“I know,” he replied, just as quiet. “I didn’t know how. Or when.”

She glanced up at him briefly. “Would you have told me eventually? If we’d. . . if-”

“Of course.” His voice was firm and maybe a little too urgent. “I just . . . wanted to be normal for a little while longer.”

The next time she looked up at him her eyes were sad and something broke inside him that he had done that to her. He waited for the next questions. The ones he wouldn’t be able to answer. The ones that would completely shatter this fragile thing that had been forming between them.

_Are you dangerous?_

_Are my kids safe around you?_

_How do I know you won’t hurt me?_

He didn’t want to hear them. He could handle this being the end, never seeing her again. But he couldn’t hear her say out loud that she was afraid of him. Maybe if he didn’t hear it he could later pretend this ended naturally and not because of who he was.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have called you today. I ruined your Saturday, made you come down here with your kids.” He got to his feet, feeling her eyes on him. “I was going to ask you to stay for dinner but I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’ll help you pack up.”

He was almost out the doorway into the living when she said abruptly, “Egg rolls.”

He turned to look at her and found her half turned and looking at him shyly. “I promised the kids egg rolls for dinner.”

Something in her expression was almost pleading. Like she wanted him to understand something she couldn’t put words to. It wasn’t a promise that everything was all right. But it wasn’t fear, either. He could work with that. Something light and airy bloomed in his chest. Something like hope.

He felt himself smile and chuckled a little. “Chinese it is.”

*

After dinner Bruce made a face when she mentioned catching the subway and had JARVIS order car to take them home. Ada was a little disappointed it wasn’t a Rolls Royce like her friend Lizzie came to school in, but still thought it was a sufficiently cool end to the day.

Violet tipped her head back as they crawled through the streets of New York, Ada looking out the window and trying to find every nook and hidden door the town car had. Neil was slumped on Violet’s arm, snoring quietly. If she was very, very lucky she’d be able to carry him all the way to bed without him waking up.

“Dr. Bruce was very nice,” Ada said abruptly.

Glancing down to make sure the sudden noise hadn’t disturbed Neil, Violet said softly, “Yes. He is very nice.”

“Are we going to see him again?”

The question made a dozen others churn through Violet’s head. She was too tangled up in what she’d learned today to know where she stood. Reminding herself that Ada didn’t really care about that, she said, “I hope so.”

“Me too. He had a lot of interesting books.” She brightened suddenly. “Do you really think Dr. Jane Foster will sign my magazine?”

Her arm was starting to tighten up under Neil’s weight. She rolled her shoulder in an attempt to ease it. “Well, Mr. JARVIS promised to ask her and Dr. Bruce said he’d try to remember as well. So I think it’ll be all right.”

That seemed to satisfy Ada and she looked out the window a minute, before glancing back. “Can I bring it for show-and-tell? If she does?”

“If you think you can take care of it. Anything you bring to show-and-tell is your responsibility if it gets ripped or lost.” That, at least, was familiar territory.

Ada frowned, probably at the idea of her soon-to-be precious magazine getting lost. “Maybe I’ll have to think about it.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” There was going to be a lot of thinking going on in their house the next few days.

The car brought them right to the front door of their building. The driver helped her get Neil onto her shoulder without waking him. She thanked him profusely, declined his offer to carry her bag up for her, and headed inside.

Neil remained fast asleep, even when she tucked him into his toddler bed. Ada chatted throughout her shower, teeth brushing and bedtime. Violet was pretty sure she was going to be up for a while, processing the day, but she was in bed with the lights off, which was all that was required of her.

For her part, Violet finished folding the laundry she’d been in the middle of when Bruce called, putting a cooking competition on the TV in an effort to distract her. She didn’t want to be up all night rehashing their conversation and thinking about superheroes.

Sunday began with a lazy breakfast to use up the last of the eggs. Ada went downstairs to play with the twins in 4E that liked Pokemon almost as much as she did and Neil took over the TV and living room to watch and act out _Tangled_.

Violet decided to give herself the morning off and curled up on the couch with her laptop and searched for information on the Avengers. It took a surprisingly long time to find video - even grainy old cell phone video - of Bruce.

Well, she shouldn’t think of him as that when he’s green, should she? He referred to him as a different person, so she should too. The media called him the Hulk, which was fine if you didn’t know him, but she couldn’t bring herself to think of any part of Bruce as that.

He called him the Other Guy, that would do for now.

Finally, after several variations on search terms, she found a few clips of the Battle of New York where you could see him leaping about. They were poor quality and at a distance, so she couldn’t see him clearly enough to determine if there was anything of Bruce that she recognized.

Attracted by the noise coming from her laptop, Neil came over and crawled onto the couch, leaning on her side to watch what she was watching. “Huk,” he said when he recognized the figure bouncing around.

“Yes,” she said absently. “That’s the Hulk.” It was also the man she’d had lunch with for almost three months. The first man since her husband to stir anything beyond polite interest. And apparently he turned into an eight foot green person on a semi regular basis.

All right, but he was still the same person, right? The same quiet, intelligent man she’d enjoyed getting to know. The man she’d been willing to upend a rare obligation-free Saturday for because he needed help. What she’d learned yesterday didn’t change any of that, not really. He was still a good man. He was a superhero, for God’s sake.

“I’man?” Neil asked, tucking his hands around her arm and looking up at her with big blue eyes.

“Yes, I can find some Iron Man.” She typed the words into the search engine and played the first video that came up of him flying around. Neil bounced in excitement, watching raptly.

She’d met him yesterday. Iron Man. Had lectured him on introducing his daughter to solid foods. Someday she could brag that she’d changed Ruby Stark’s diaper.

On Tuesday, she was going to have to make a decision. About Bruce and where they went from here. It was possible he wouldn’t be at the cafe waiting for her, which, she supposed, would make the decision for her.

He’d looked so upset when he told her. Braced for a blow he was sure would come. She wondered what had really happened with Betty. A bad time for him, he’d said. Had she turned away from him? Or had he removed himself for her safety? He said he had some control over the Other Guy now, did that mean years ago he hadn’t?

She rubbed her forehead with her free hand, sighing. She wanted to see him again. She wanted to talk about her kids and his friends and what they’d each read in their nerdy fields of choice. To hear his take on new scientific breakthroughs and tell him about the latest novel she’d managed to find time to read.

She wanted him to kiss her, the way he’d been about to yesterday, looking out at the skyline.

He said he had it under control, she had to trust that was the truth. And if it was the truth then was a relationship with him - in any form - was that any more dangerous than any of the other potentially dangerous things she did? Walking in New York, taking the subway. Hell, cooking on the stove. Hal had died when he went to sleep. Life was full of uncertainty.

And, really, who didn’t had a dark side? She’d prefer an honestly gentle, affectionate man who turned green to one who didn’t respect her feelings or understand what her kids meant to her.

“Nothing’s ever simple,” she told Neil, queuing up another video for him.

An image came to her mind of him settled in Bruce’s lap, sipping his juice. It didn’t send any worry or fear through her, just the memory of affection she’d felt when she’d seen it.

Maybe some things were simple after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some of the editing on this while sick, so apologies if there's a larger number of errors than usual.

Monday was miraculously uneventful, save for a desperately needed trip to the grocery store and Ada fretting about the fate of her Dr. Jane Foster magazine. Violet was mostly content with her decision to see Bruce again, but even if she hadn’t been it was obvious she was going to have to bug him about that National Geographic.

Tuesday Neil went to preschool with a smile on his face and Violet ran back home to do laundry during her three kid-free hours. She had an overstuffed basket of darks on her hip when she opened her apartment door to reveal Pepper Potts, in a crisp navy blue suit and matching pumps. She had one hand lifted as if to knock, a leather portfolio case dangling from the other.

They blinked at each other a moment, both obviously surprised at the other’s sudden appearance.

The CEO of Stark Enterprises recovered first. “Ms. Marsh?” She smiled the smile she used on TV and held out her hand. “Pepper Potts.”  
 Violet shook her hand, mostly on auto pilot. “I know who you are.” The red head’s smile drooped a bit and Violet shook her head. “I’m sorry. That was rude. You have me off balance.”

The smile shifted slightly to something more natural. “I’m sorry for coming by unannounced but I had a meeting nearby and Bruce mentioned you were free at this time on Tuesdays.”

“Is he all right?” she asked, suddenly worried. There hadn’t been anything about the Avengers on the news, but who knows how much they did that the public never knew about.

Ms. Potts put up her hands. “He’s fine. Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to talk to you.”

About what, Violet couldn’t fathom. But she pulled the door open further for the other woman to come in. “Would you like some coffee?”

“That would be lovely, thank you, Ms. Marsh.”

“I go by Mrs. still, but call me Violet.” She lead her through the living room, depositing her laundry on the armchair as she passed it. “I’m only Mrs. Marsh to teachers and salesmen.”

Ms. Potts smiled at that, taking a seat at the wooden table that took up far too much of the apartment kitchen, even shoved in the corner as it was. “In that case, please call me Pepper.” She watched Violet pull out coffee mugs and pour water into her single shot maker. “I understand you baby sat my daughter this weekend.”

Violet glanced over at her. “Bruce needed a little help.”

Pepper gave a little nod. “I also understand you met Tony and lectured him on applesauce.”

Holy hell, Tony Stark had discussed her with Pepper Potts. “Ruby plowed through her bottles. I suggested you try some solid foods on her, to help keep up with her appetite.”

She watched her another moment, then turned to the portfolio she’d set on the kitchen table. “I looked into you. I’m sorry if you find that a little odd but hopefully you’ll understand by the time we get to the end of this conversation.”

Well, that was ominous. She set a coffee mug in front of Pepper and went back to the counter to wait for hers. “Okay. Shoot.”

“You graduated from Swarthmore in 2002 with majors in Educational Studies and English Literature,” Pepper began, pulling a folder out of the portfolio case. “You married two years later. You taught high school Literature until your son was born, choosing to take a sabbatical. Your husband died when your son was four month old and you’ve yet to return to work.” She looked at Violet. “I’m sorry about your husband.”

She sighed a little and poured sugar and flavored creamer into her coffee. “I was planning to get my masters,” she said. “If you were wondering about the extended sabbatical.”

Pepper nodded as if she’d suspected as much. “As far as I can tell, you’ve been living off your husband’s life insurance and some savings and cash from the sale of your home in Connecticut. Are you interested in finding a job?”

Violet brought her coffee to the table and sat across from Pepper. “I have at least another year before the money gets worrisome. Neil - my son - has special needs I’m still trying to arrange help for.”

The other woman glanced down at her papers, straightened her shoulders a little, and continued, “Tony didn’t have the best relationship with his parents. He was mostly raised by servants. Nanny, cook. The butler. He has fond memories of them, but that doesn’t take away from the fact they were not his parents. Because of this, he insists Ruby is not going to have a nanny. Which is lovely in theory but her parents are a CEO and an genius inventor superhero. He tries to watch her when I’m busy, but I know he’s been taking her down to the lab when he’s working.”  “That doesn’t sound safe,” Violet offered, sipping her coffee.

“It’s not! Things explode down there.”

And suddenly they were just two women bitching about their co-parents. “My husband used to put Ada’s car seat on top of the kitchen table while he cooked.”

Pepper picked up her coffee for the first time. “Did she ever fall?”

“No, thankfully. But one day I did put a pumpkin in the seat and shove it off. The resulting mess proved my point for me.”

“Maybe if I blew up a melon,” Pepper mused. She shook herself. “Anyway. You made an impression on Saturday. And Bruce speaks very highly of you.”

That little tidbit warmed her to her core. She tried not to preen.

“I’m here,” Pepper continued. “To offer you a job. To be Ruby’s in-house, on call babysitter.”

Violet was so busy being happy that Bruce talked about her that she almost missed that. “Wh- what exactly is an in-house, on call babysitter?”

“You’d live in the Tower and watch Ruby when Tony and I are busy. We’d pay you.” She pulled a piece of paper out of the folder and slid it over. “You and your children would come on vacation with us, have access to all the amenities of the Tower.”

Violet picked up the piece of paper and read the number on it. The high five figure number. “You know this is almost four times what most nannies make?”

“But you’re not a nanny, you’re an in-house, on call babysitter.”

“It sounds an awful lot like a nanny.”

Pepper made a face and sipped her coffee. “Tony Stark’s daughter will not be raised by a nanny. He said nothing about in-house, on call babysitters.”

Violet felt the corner of her mouth fighting to quirk up in a smile. “Did he okay this?”

“He thinks it’s a great idea. He’s already making plans to build your apartment. Oh, and your daughter - she goes to Laurel Crown, correct? Tony funds a science fair there.”

“I know. Ada can’t participate till third grade but we went to see the exhibits last year.”

“If you take this job, we’ll cover her tuition.”

Violet blinked a few times. “While I have the job?”

Pepper smiled. “Until she graduates.”

The air seemed to get very thin all of a sudden. She drank her coffee to keep from laughing or screaming hysterically.

“I can attempt to arrange my schedule so you can continue to pick her up from school,” Pepper was saying. “I can’t promise-”

“Can you send a car?” Violet asked, cutting her off. Pepper tilted her head quizzically. “Ada’s a scholarship kid,” Violet explained. “She sees her friends picked up by nannies or drivers. One of them, apparently, in a Rolls Royce. A nice Town car waiting for her every day would go a long way for her social standing.”

Pepper smiled the smile of a little girl who’d had her own share of trouble fitting in. “Done. Anything else?”

Violet stared at the paper in front of her. Free housing. Ada’s school taken care of. A salary she never would have dreamed of as a teacher. Free family vacations to wherever the hell Tony Stark went on vacation. Was she really going to ask for more?

She looked up at the CEO of Stark Enterprises, the most powerful business woman in the world, and she did just that. “There’s a new therapy I want to get Neil on. It’s expensive and my health insurance doesn’t cover it. I’ve been trying to get the school district to help but it’s just one string of red tape after another. Promise me your insurance will pay for it - full cost - and I’ll sign a contract today.”

Pepper held her gaze a moment, silence stretching between them. Then she smiled widely and held her hand out. “I think this will work out just fine. Welcome aboard, Violet.”

*

“You did _WHAT_?”

Tony dodged around the heavy steel work table. “Offered Violet a job. Well, Pepper is. Did, actually, what time is it?”

Bruce took a breath in through the nose, trying to stop the growing pressure in the back of his head. Satisfying as tossing a busybody billionaire around the room might be, it wasn’t productive. “I thought you didn’t want Ruby to have a nanny.”

“She won’t be a nanny, she’ll be an in-house, on call babysitter. Just for when we need her.”

Tony Stark, ladies and gentlemen, the master of loopholes. “There must be hundreds of qualified non-nannies in New York. Why a woman you talked to for two minutes?”

Tony picked up a compressor and started to fiddle with it. “She’s qualified. She’s a teacher. She has two kids. You know her daughter’s been on the honor roll at Laurel Crown every semester she’s been there?”

He did know that. Because the rules of Ada’s scholarship meant she needed to maintain a GPA above 3.7. Bruce had been horrified first graders had trackable GPAs. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You think there’s any way Ruby’s not going to be smart?” Tony raised a skeptical brow. “Anybody who watches her has to be able to handle it when she starts talking at one and teaches herself to read at two. Your Violet has already done it once.”

“She’s not mine,” Bruce said through gritted teeth.

The skeptical brow arched higher. “You mean she’s not your regular Tuesday date?”

“It’s not a _date_.”

“Today is Tuesday, isn’t it?” It was said in a tone that indicated Tony knew exactly what goddamned day it was. “You can ask her if she accepted when you go meet her.”

Bruce’s fists clenched. “I’m not meeting her.”

That stopped the other man in his tracks, hands stilling on the compressor. “Why the hell not?”

The pressure in his head had stopped growing, but was pressing steadily against all the blocks Bruce had in place. “She found out about. . . the Other Guy.”

Tony frowned. “And said she didn’t want to see you any more?”

He paused, a little of the pressure easing. “Not. . . exactly.”

“Not- what _did_ she do?”

Bruce decided this was a good time to fiddle with his glasses. “Stayed for dinner.”

There was a long stretch of silence, but he refused to look up at whatever comical face Tony was making. It would only encourage him.

“Look,” Tony said finally. “I know you’re a little out of practice, but that’s the opposite of ‘I never want to see you again.’”

“It’s complicated,” Bruce muttered.

“Well, admittedly, I’ve never wrangled a poly amorous relationship before, but. . .”

It took Bruce a second to understand what he was implying. Then the pressure roared back to life. “Goddammit, Tony.”

“You know, you never struck me as the blonde and innocent type.”

He growled, “Tony,” and could hear the baritone reverb of the Other Guy in it. Tony must have, as well, because it took only one threatening step for him to sprint around the table and make a break for the door.

Bruce huffed out a few angry breaths, silently pleading with the creature in his head to settle down. _There’s no threat. Tony’s just an ass. It’s fine._

Even if he had been planning to meet Violet there was no way he could do it in this state. All it would take was one rude driver or pedestrian and he’d be tearing up half of Manhattan. Again.

He sighed and braced himself on the table, counting breaths and picturing ocean waves. Slowly, the pressure in his head eased.

“Apologies, Dr. Banner,” JARVIS said. “But if you don’t intend to see Mrs. Marsh then perhaps other arrangements should be made for Miss Ada’s magazine?”

Bruce smiled a little and looked over at his bag, which had the magazine safely tucked inside. Jane had been flattered and delighted at the request. She’d signed the Nat Geo, adding a little star beside her name, and added a separate note inviting Ada to come visit her lab sometime when she was out of school. He imagined the little girl would be beside herself with excitement at the idea.

Well, it was as good an excuse as any. He grabbed his satchel and headed out the door.

Cold air hit him like a slap as soon as he left the building. To his amusement, the bitter chill made the last of the pressure dissipate. _What’s the matter, Big Guy? Don’t like the winter?_

He shoved his hands in his pockets and his nose into the folds of his scarf and headed towards the cafe with all the other bundled New Yorkers. Halfway there, snow mixed with sleet started to fall, soaking into his coat and finding every inch of exposed skin. He hoped Violet was at the cafe. If he put up with New York in February he didn’t want it to all be for naught. He might have to let the Other Guy out for a couple rounds with Thor, just on principle.

Jogging the last few yards, he let himself into the restaurant, shaking the clinging snow off his head. 

Violet was at their usual table, blonde hair damp and curling where it had escaped from her pony tail. She had her head bent down to look at whatever Neil was playing with, but looked up when Bruce neared and smiled. “Hello, neighbor,” she said as he stopped beside the empty chair to shed his outerwear.

“You took the job,” he said, sinking into the chair.

“I did. It was dangerously close to an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“If you felt pressured in any way I can talk to Tony -”

She laughed and waved a hand. “No, no. It was fine. Pepper was lovely. It was a very generous contract.”

His herbal tea was waiting for him, the way he usually had her mocha waiting for her. He wrapped his hand around it to soak in the warmth. “Are you sure? I mean. . . it’s not teaching.”

“I know. But it means I don’t have to leave Neil with a day care. It’s more money than I’d make teaching. And they’re paying for Ada’s school and putting me on the Avengers insurance plan which Pepper said is just an address to send bills to, so I’ll be able to get the kids whatever therapy they need. And apparently, they’re building me a three bedroom apartment with a playroom, all at no rent, which sounds like heaven, frankly.”

She was all but glowing as she talked. She had never struck him as particularly sad or stressed out before. But seeing her like this, animated and smiling, told him he hadn’t been seeing her at her best before now. This was a woman whose biggest worries had just been taken away, as if by magic. “It does sound like a good arrangement.” Maybe he should have given Tony the benefit of the doubt.

“Are you afraid I’m going to be invading your turf?” she teased.

For a moment, he indulged in an image of her living in the building, probably just a few floors below him. They could have dinner together. He could teach Ada about physics and count cars with Neil. He would have a box of tea at Violet’s apartment and she’d have a stash of coffee at his. And whatever this fragile, rare thing was that was growing between them would take root.

It was a nice dream.

“I can’t promise you anything,” he said quietly.

Some of the light went out of her and he hated himself for it. “Bruce-”

“I can’t offer you _anything_.” She had to know that, had to realize this did not have a fairy tale ending.

She watched him for a moment, then glanced away, out the window at the ugly, grey February day. Her mouth trembled a little, but she tightened her jaw and it stopped. “March twelfth.”

He shook his head. “I don’t follow.”

“Hal died on March twelfth. I found him on the thirteenth, but I always think of it as the twelfth. He missed our eighth wedding anniversary by three days. My mother said no one gets married in March but I was dead set on it.”

“The ides of March?” he ventured, because that would be her sense of humor.

Sure enough, she turned back to smile at him. “He humored me.” She paused and her mouth gave a dangerous wobble again. “I met him when I was twenty and lost him when I was thirty two. He was my first adult relationship. The first man I ever lived with. The first love that survived fights and money problems and the death of family members. When he died the only thing that got me out of bed was the kids. Even a year later I couldn’t imagine I’d ever-” She swallowed hard and looked him in the eye. “I never said I had anything to offer you, either. I never asked for promises.”

“I’m sorry, Violet,” he said quietly. “I didn’t intend to bring this up.”

She waved a hand. “I know. I just- I like this. Talking to you. Being friends. I think it’s obvious it could be something more if we let it. But if this is all we ever have. . . I’d rather have it than not.”

Bruce didn’t know if it was possible to be just friends with her, especially not in the close quarters of the Tower. But he suddenly wanted to try. He’d lost so much already. Denied himself so much. Just this once he was going to let himself have something. Give himself a chance at friendship with this woman. She was walking in with her eyes open, he owed her just as much.

He nodded and picked up his tea mug. Reaching over, he clinked it against her coffee. “Welcome to the Tower, Vi.”


	7. Chapter 7

Violet surveyed the sea of boxes that was her living room and fought an irrational but very strong desire to burn all of her possessions. After Hal died she’d stayed in their big house in Connecticut for months while she dealt with her grief and tried to decide what she was going to do with herself. When it had become obvious that Ada was gifted and would need a high quality school to challenge her properly, Violet had come to the decision to move to the city. And so she had packed up her four bedroom home and moved to a two bedroom apartment. Alone. With four and a one year olds.

And that had somehow been easier to do than moving out of said two bedroom apartment with three and six year olds.

Her parents had picked the kids up on Friday night, taking them back to Connecticut for the weekend so Violet could do the last of the packing and deal with the movers without worrying about them underfoot. She’d told herself a day alone with her music blasting would be plenty of time to finish up what she needed to do.

But now the day was half done and she swore her belongings were multiplying.

She took a break to get a cup of coffee and regroup before arson started sounding too appealing. Her phone revealed no desperate messages from her mother, which was a relief. Not quite ready to go back to the fray, she pulled up Bruce’s number and texted him. _I hate packing._

To her complete and utter shock, he replied a couple minutes later. _I used to be able to fit everything I owned in an Army duffle bag._

Violet was in Ada’s room, taping up yet another box of stuffed animals. She paused long enough to respond, _That’s very Jack Kerouac of you._

_You are too young to be making that reference._

She rolled her eyes and started on what she hoped was the last stuffies box. Bruce had been rather horrified a couple weeks ago when he’d done the math and realized she was a full ten years younger than him. They had been teasing each other back and forth every since. _I am a Lit nerd. I make references far older than that._

_And yet when I make science jokes your eyes glaze over._

Thinking about her answer entertained her through the next several boxes. Stacking them up against the wall, she surveyed Ada’s room for any stray toys or books. Satisfied this room, at least, was done, she scooped up her phone and her packing tape and moved back to the kitchen for the last of the plates and appliances. _I have made one decent science joke in my life,_ she tapped into the phone. _Would you like to hear it?_

 _Hit me,_ he replied almost immediately.

She wondered what he was doing that he could respond to her so quickly. _When Ada started repeating words, Hal and I made a game of the strangest ways to get around swearing. I won the day I dropped our dinner on the kitchen floor and shouted ‘Fluorine, Uranium, Carbon, Potassium’ at the top of my lungs._

There was a long pause. She had he coffee maker dismantled and was washing it out before packing it when he phone finally buzzed. _That was terrible. I have to use that on Tony sometime._

Drying one hand off, she replied, _You be sure and tell me if my lame mom joke makes Tony Stark laugh._

_I will. Did yelling out elements help as much as yelling fuck would have?_

_Well, it didn’t make the roast edible, but Hal fell on the floor laughing as soon as he parsed it. Then we ordered pizza and made Ada’s day. So I guess in the end it was a win._

The phone was silent for a while. Long enough to finish the coffee pot and wrap up the dishes sitting in the drying rack. Violet opened all the cupboards and checked they were empty. Satisfied, she carried the half full boxes of dishes and coffee maker out to the living room and started tossing the last odds and ends into it.

She heard her phone buzz in the kitchen and went back to check it. _I need a new book to read,_ Bruce had sent. _What’s your favorite book?_

 _That’s a very loaded question to ask an English teacher,_ she told him.

_But who better to ask?_

She stared at her now empty bookshelf and the shoulder high stack of boxes beside it. _The Scarlet Letter._

 _Wow, you_ are _an English teacher._

Violet stuck her tongue out at the phone despite the fact he couldn’t see her. _You asked. Have you read it?_

His answer was pretty much what she’d expected. _Thirty odd years ago, in school._

They were probably lucky they were doing this via text. In person she would have slipped into lecture hall mode and his eyes would really have glazed over. _Give it a try. It’s a lot better without someone hovering around wanting you to write an essay on it. Hawthorne was a master of imagery. He manages a staggering amount of color symbolism in a non visual format._

_I suppose you named your son after him for a reason._

It was now after ten. She was as packed as she was going to get and the movers would be there in nine hours. She took one last shower in her tiny apartment shower with the off the tracks door she’d never gotten around to fixing, tossed her dirty clothes into her suitcase and slipped into her night gown and into bed. She brought her phone with her to use as an alarm.

Bruce had sent her a message when she was showering. _Have I lost you to packing boxes?_

 _I’m done, actually. Settling in to sleep. Movers will be here at seven._ She rubbed her thumb on the side of the phone, debating her next words. _Thanks for keeping me company._

 _Anytime._ She could almost hear the shy, vaguely uncomfortable throat clearing that would come with that. _I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow._

_Yes, you will. Goodnight, Bruce._

_Sleep well._

She double checked her alarm was set, turned off her light and settled in to sleep.

The movers were early. Violet was usually a fan of punctuality, but not at six forty in the morning when she was half dressed and her coffee maker was in pieces in a box. They two burly men started in the living room while she finished dressed and dumped her night shirt and bed clothes into her suitcase and zipped it closed. Then she lounged against the wall, watching them quickly and efficiently take out all of her things to the big truck idling in the street. In less than an hour the apartment was empty and she decided hiring movers had been worth every penny.

 She took a cab to the Tower and watched the process happen in reverse. Pepper had told her the apartment would be furnished with the basics, so the movers were taking their old beds and couch to a donation drop off. With just boxes and smaller furniture to bring up it took even less time, especially with the use of the freight elevator. 

When the burly men had been paid and tipped she called her mother to tell her it was safe to bring the kids back. They had just gotten up and were eating breakfast, so it’d be at least an hour before they started the three hour drive into the city. Time for her to eat and start setting up their rooms so it felt more like home when they got here.

Thinking it best to start in Neil’s room, as Ada would want more say in the details, Violet pushed open the door with the “Bed 3” sign taped to it. Apparently, “basic furnishings” included a bed, dresser, and small wooden desk, just the right size for a three year old. And what looked like every piece of Iron Man merchandise known to man. Including two posters, an area rug and bed set. 

Violet pressed a hand to her mouth, suddenly afraid she was about to start bawling. She turned and opened the next door, to find that Ada’s room was similarly furnished, but where Neil had gotten Iron Man she had gotten science. A glow in the dark galaxy was painted on the ceiling and a mobile of the solar system spun over the desk. The rug spread on the center of the floor was the periodic table and posters showed various shots from the Hubble telescope.

Stepping into the room, she reached out and touched the mobile, making Saturn spin. A couple of tears escaped and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. There was no reason for them to do this, to welcome the kids this way. To be this kind to her. It was completely overwhelming.

She was still trying to wrap her mind around it when there was a knock on the door. Wiping her eyes again she hurried down the hall and across the enormous living room with sweeping views of New York and pulled the door open to reveal Bruce, in jeans and a faded blue t-shirt, looking rather uncertain.

Without thinking about it, she lurched forward and hugged him with all she had. He hesitated for the slightest instant before folding his arms around her. He smelled good, of some earthy, rich scented men’s soap. Violet buried her face in his chest and whispered, “Thank you.”

“I didn’t-” She gave him a little squeeze to stop him. He sighed and rubbed her back a little. “I might had helped with Ada’s but the Iron Man shrine was entirely Tony’s idea.”

She chuckled at turned her head so her voice wouldn’t be muffled in his shirt. “I’m sure you kept him in check.”

“Pepper helped. She wanted to make sure you felt at home. Said nannies should be like family.”

Violet let him go long enough to rub her eyes again and reluctantly stepped back. “And in-house, on call babysitters?”

“Those to.” He lifted a hand and tucked a stray lock of hair over her ear. “We’re teasing him about that relentlessly, just so you know.”

“That’s good.” She resisted the sudden, dangerous urge to ask if her room was decorated in Hulk swag. From what she’d gleaned from Pepper and Bruce’s stories, that would be exactly the sort of thing Tony Stark would do as a joke. “Are you the welcome wagon?”

He rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Thought I might offer to take you to breakfast. Help unpack a little.”

She smiled, wondering how either of them had thought they’d be able to stay away from each other with her living here. “I’d like that,” she said quietly.

Bruce returned the smile and stepped back gesturing for her the proceed him out of the apartment.

*

The next two weeks were oddly peaceful in the Tower. No super villain attacks, no newly discovered Hydra cells. Things ran like clockwork as early spring slowly made itself known to the city.

Bruce and Violet’s regular lunch had gone from weekly to practically every other day. Sometimes she was busy with Ruby or the new therapist who had begun working with Neil. But most of the time she would text him when the baby was down for her nap and he would run out to get something to bring up to her, or she would fix something simple in her kitchen. Every time he went up more boxes had been unpacked and it felt a bit more like home.

They had, so far, succeeded in keeping things platonic. He re-read The Scarlet Letter and enjoyed it far more than he’d thought he would. He enjoyed watching her talk about it more, though. The light he’d seen in her the day she accepted the not-a-nanny position was still there and glowing brighter every day.

To Bruce’s relief, Tony had done nothing overt in the matchmaking department. He seemed rather determined not to mention Violet at all, which Bruce figured was better than the alternative. He did get very knowing looks when he left for lunch, though.

He was surprised one Saturday to step out of his apartment and find Thor and Jane waiting for the elevator with Ada and Neil in tow. Violet had mentioned that Ada had attached herself to Jane a bit, but he hadn’t known the couple was actively babysitting the kids.

“Where are you four off to?” he asked.

“Doctor Jane and Mr. Thor are taking us to the Liberty Science Center,” Ada said. 

“Violet wanted to try to get some unpacking undone,” Jane explained, holding the little girl’s hand. “So we offered to get the kids out of the house for a couple hours, give her some space.”

Something about that didn’t sit right, but Bruce smiled. “Well, have fun.” He watched the group climb into the elevator and waved a little as the doors slid closed.

He’d been heading down to the labs to get a couple hours in while it was quiet. Tony was spending a lazy Saturday with Pepper and Ruby, at least according to his public calendar and Bruce figured it was a good a time as any to run some tests on the generator. If he could get the last round of theoretical data done they could start stress testing it and get a prototype in the field by the summer.

His hand hovered over the elevator button a moment. “JARVIS? What day is it?”

“Saturday, March twelfth.”

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was none of his business. If she’d wanted company she would have said something. She probably wanted privacy. Hell, maybe she was actually unpacking.

But when he stepped into the elevator he didn’t hit the button for the sub basement lab that he worked in. He hit the button that took him a few floors down to Violet’s floor.

When SHEILD fell and it became obvious that Stark Enterprises would become an escape hatch for loyal agents, Tony put in a couple floors of temporary housing for those moving in from other locations. Most moved out quickly, but a handful of important ones, like Amanda Newbury, Darcy Lewis and a few other high level assistants and personnel, stayed on. Now, two years later, apartments took up ten floors and were being renovated on a regular basis. The housing lottery happened every February, which had made the timing of hiring Violet extremely convenient. Her rather luxurious three bedroom, two bath place had been made by combining two regular apartments. Bruce doubted it would become the norm, Tony didn’t actually want to run an apartment building, but it seemed now there would be a couple “family” apartments available. The lottery for those would probably get kind of cutthroat.

Bruce stopped outside her apartment and stared at the door, not sure if he wanted to talk himself into or out of knocking. Maybe he should text her first. He didn’t want to intrude on any private grieving she might be doing. It was none of his business how she spent the anniversary of her husband’s death.

“Mrs. Marsh has added you to the list of people who can access her apartment without invitation,” JARVIS offered helpfully.

Christ, even the AI wanted him to get on with it.

All right. She could kick him out if she wanted to. He opened the door and stepped inside. The living room was empty, lights off and he hesitated a moment. He took a few steps forward, closing the door behind him. “Violet?” he said quietly.

There was no immediate response and in the back of his mind a certain _presence_ went on alert.

_I’m sure she’s fine. This is a little beneath you; I’m not even that upset._

He could hear music coming from the back of the apartment and followed it down the hallway, past the kid’s rooms, to the master suite. Hesitating at the doorway, he rapped lightly on the wall and poked his head in. “Vi?”

She was sitting on the floor at the end of the bed, a couple of open moving boxes surrounding her. She had a thick, leather-bound book open on her lap and was quite obviously crying.

When he said her name she jumped a little and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you. I was just. . . some of these books are dusty I think.”

Oh, she was a worse liar than Steve. Bruce walked over to sit next to her and tilted his head to see the book she was looking at only to find it was a wedding album.

She gave him a wry smile. “This was a bad day to unpack this particular box.”

He pointed to the album. “May I?” She nodded and handed it over.

She looked remarkably young in the pictures, hair piled on the back of her head in curls. Her dress had gold accents, bringing out the blonde in her hair. In most of the pictures she was beaming at a young man with light brown hair and glasses. Bruce could see Neil’s jaw and nose in his features.

Violet rested her head on his shoulder and awareness shot through him. “My mother wanted me to have the bridesmaids in green. Since it was almost St. Patrick’s day.”

Bruce flipped a couple pages till he found a shot of the bridesmaids, dressed in chocolate brown gowns. “I see you were unswayed.”

“I don’t-” She broke off suddenly and said, “I thought the brown was more flattering.”

He leaned back to look down at the top of her head. “Were you about to say you don’t like green?”

“I admit nothing.”

The stubborn little thread in her tone made him smile and he looked back at the album. “You look very happy.”

“I was. We were.” She sniffled a little and sighed. “I keep thinking I’m all right. That I’ve made peace with it. And then it just. . . hits me all over again.” 

“There is no expiration date on grief,” he told her quietly. “And I don’t think you should judge your healing in general on how you feel today.” She nodded and he shifted to put an arm around her shoulders. “I think you’re doing just fine. You haven’t let sorrow convert your heart to a tomb.”

She sniffled loudly. “Was that - did you just quote _The Scarlet Letter_ at me?”

“I admit nothing.”

He could feel her chuckle. She reached over and patted his knee. “Thank you,” Bruce.”

Tightening his arm on her, he drew her closer, into a hug. He pressed his face into her hair. She smelled of vanilla and spices, just as she’d had when she’d hugged him in the doorway on her first day in the Tower. It was a soothing scent, homey and warm. He added it to the list of things that drew him to her, like the way she lit up when she talked about her children or books or her odd, two tone eyes.

“Heterochromia,” he said, the word coming to him so suddenly he had to say it out loud.

Violet lifted her head enough to look at him. “What?”

“Sorry. Heterochromia, it’s the word for eyes that are two different colors. Like yours. I’ve been trying to think of it since we met.”

She studied him a moment, then smiled. “You’ve been thinking about my eyes since we met?”

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he actually got any words out. “I, ah - I didn’t mean -”

Violet laughed a little and put her head back on his shoulder, tucking her arm around his waist. “It’s all right. I like your eyes, too.”

He sighed and inhaled the scent of vanilla and spices and smiled to himself. Well, there were worse ways to spend a Saturday.


	8. Chapter 8

Winter dragged on stubbornly through March, giving up one last late snowfall the first week of April. The mercury rose steadily after that, turning the sidewalks slushy, then full of puddles. When the majority of those had dried up, Violet could stand it no longer and planned a trip out to the park with Ruby and Neil.

She checked it with Pepper and Tony a few days before, of course. She’d met Ruby’s bodyguard her first week working there. Sameen was a lovely, funny ex-Mossad agent who probably knew more ways to disarm and neutralize a threat than Violet was really comfortable thinking about. She went where Ruby did when she left the Tower, so on the Wednesday morning of the Great Park Adventure, she came with Tony to drop the baby off.

It was usually Pepper doing drop off, but she’d had a meeting on the West Coast and caught an early morning flight. So it was Tony who handed over the baby bag and extra bag of extra outfits and sun screen and other such day trip essentials. “She said this was enough,” he said as he passed Ruby to Violet. “And that if she forgot anything, you’d probably know how to improvise.”

“That is almost certainly true,” she said, propping Ruby on her hip so she could take the bags. “We’ll be fine.”

He nodded, half turned to go, then stopped and looked back at her. “Banner likes you.”

Violet felt her brows raise at the non sequitur, but replied, “I like him, too.”

“Good,” he said, somehow managing to make one word vaguely threatening. “I wouldn’t want to see him get hurt.”

She wondered if it was worth pointing out that she and Bruce hadn’t so much as kissed yet. No, it probably didn’t matter. They could hurt each other perfectly well just as they were. “I’m not in the habit of hurting people I care about.”

He stared her for a few more heartbeats, as if to make triply sure she was telling the truth. As if she might break down into tears and admit that, yes, she routinely seduced soft spoken scientists with oh, let’s call it a mood disorder, then promptly dumped them, cackling.

Apparently, she passed muster because he nodded again and left.

When Violet turned around Sameen was smirking. “I suppose it’s not everyday you get the ‘break his heart I break your face’ warning from Tony Stark.”

And that was why she liked Sameen. “Once in a lifetime opportunity, I’d say.”

The other woman grinned and helped her pack up the kids into the stroller Tony had made. It could, if needed, close up into a pod with life support and a homing system, whisking Ruby back home in case of emergency. There was only enough room for her, but Neil could hang onto the front, standing on a little running board over the wheels. He liked the freedom and Violet liked not having to carry almost forty pounds of squirmy toddler, so it was win win.

They walked to the neighborhood park and playground in the bright spring sunshine. The air smelled clean from the recent snow melt and the sun was warm enough Violet shed her sweater when they reached the park so she could enjoy the feel of it on her arms. 

She had researched nearby parks carefully, finding one that had a small, fenced, preschool appropriate section that Neil could play on independently. When they reached it she let him run free while she spread out a blanket for Ruby to lay on. Sitting on the blanket with her, Violet kept an eye on her son while giving Ruby tummy time, then sitting her up and pointing out the sights and sounds of the park.

The baby was fascinated with the blades of grass, dandelions and rocks that Neil brought them. Violet pointed out the colors and shapes and Ruby studied them carefully. It reminded Violet of when Ada was a baby. She’d been serious and studious even at six months, utterly fascinated by the world around her. Vi had no doubt Ruby would be the same way. She’d be talking by Christmas, most likely, and then the real fun would begin.

Neil found his way back in time to have a snack and “help” Ruby line up all his presents. Sameen hung out on one of the nearby benches, where she had a good view of the whole park. It was as pleasant and relaxing a morning as Violet had hoped it would be.

Ruby was starting to droop by mid morning, well overdue for a nap. So Violet got her resettled in the stroller pod and tried to get Neil back on his running board but he was having none of it. She supposed after ninety minutes of running around she wouldn’t want to stand and hang on either.

It took a little bit of juggling and bag stuffing, but she managed to get him balanced on her hip with one hand free to push the stroller. Sameen looked amused at the little dance, but couldn’t help as she needed to keep her hands free.

They walked out of the park much slower than they’d walked in. Violet was going to need a nap of her own when they finally got back to the Tower. The sidewalk was in sight when a young man stepped in front of the stroller, forcing her to stop short.

He grinned at her. “Mrs. Marsh, is that you?”

Vi studied him, trying to place the name or the voice. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“It’s me, Jeremy. You taught me, God, seven years ago? At Mills Prep.”

Sameen had walked past them a few steps, assuming Violet would want to catch up a moment. It was nice of her, but Violet kept an eye on her to make sure she stayed in earshot. She had taught at Mills Prep seven years ago, and there had been several Jeremys in her classes. But she had an excellent memory for faces and his did not ring a bell.

“Jeremy from Mills,” she repeated and apparently her recognition sounded fake enough that Sameen turned back to watch them. “Of course. You wrote the essay comparing Catcher in the Rye to Hamlet.”

His grin widened. “That’s me.”

She shifted her hand so her finger was over the button that would close up the pod and send it back to the Tower. “I didn’t teach Catcher in the Rye at Mills. I hate that book. So, who are you really and what do you want?”

His face darkened, but before he could respond, Sameen closed the distance between them and grabbed his arm, yanking it behind him. Either the pain or the motion itself drove him to his knees. 

Violet took two steps back, dragging the stroller with her, and scanned the area to make sure he didn’t have any accomplices coming to help. She spotted a city cop strolling down the block and waved at him to get his attention, not relaxing until he was running towards them.

“Jeremy” was babbling something about working for a magazine and not meaning any trouble, but Sameen didn’t let up until the cop came and handcuffed the young man.

They stuck around long enough to explain the situation to the cop and wait for his back up to come. By then Neil was fidgeting and Ruby was starting to fuss in earnest. Sameen left her card with the police for follow up and escorted Violet and the kids out of the park.

“Nice job, teach,” she told her as they headed towards the Tower.

Well, there were worse nicknames. “Should I have deployed the pod? He didn’t seem dangerous, but maybe I shouldn’t have hesitated.”

The other woman shrugged. “Would the boss have yelled at you if you had? No. But it might have escalated the situation with the guy back there and he could have gone at you. And you were holding your kid. You did fine. I could tell right away you weren’t comfortable and you got him to out himself in a couple of sentences. Most women go along with the ‘sure I know who you are’ routine. That’s why he played it. Probably figured you were too polite to correct him.”

“What did he want?”

“Who knows? If he was telling the truth, then just some dish on Stark, maybe a picture or two of the baby. Or he could be some sort of nut-job fan or a wannabe kidnapper. The police will try to find out, keep him in jail as long as they can and Stark and his lawyers will deal with him.” They reached the long shadow of the Tower and Sameen smiled. “We got Ruby home safe, that’s all we need to worry about.”

Violet nodded, seeing the sense of that. It was a little creepy that someone had researched _her_ in an attempt to get close to Stark and the baby, but she supposed that came with the territory. She wouldn’t have drawn attention if she hadn’t been with Ruby and when she was with Ruby she’d have Sameen. It was as safe as she could expect to be.

Sameen got them all the way back to Violet’s apartment before leaving to go report the incident to Tony. “SOP,” she explained with a shrug as she headed out the door.

Ruby had fallen asleep in her pod, so Violet parked it in the play room with the door cracked and went to see to Neil. He’d gotten his shoes and socks off and was working on his pants. Figuring they were in for the day, she helped him, made him sit on the potty for a couple minutes, then got him set up at his desk with coloring supplies. 

She was silently debating the benefits of a nap versus a quiet cup of coffee and some reading when her front door slammed open to reveal Bruce, looking uncharacteristically rumpled, Tony and Sameen on his heels.

“What on Earth-” she started to say, but she was drowned out by the others all talking at once.

“See, she’s fine,” Tony was saying, gesturing at Violet.

“Where are the kids?” Sameen asked at the same time.

“In their rooms,” Violet told her, still not entirely sure what was going on. “Ruby is napping. Why are you all here?”

Sameen went to stand in the doorway of the hallway that lead to the bedrooms as Tony actually answered her question, “Bruce is not taking the news of your brush with danger well.”

Bruce looked at him and _snarled_. Actually snarled, like some sort of animal. And not just with his voice, there was a deep, chest rattling reverb underneath the sound that didn’t seem quite human.

It appeared to concern Tony, because what little humor he had left his face and he stepped closer to Violet, putting an arm out as if to pull her behind him. “Bruce. Breathe.”

“Was that- Him?” Violet asked, hoping Tony knew what she was talking about.

“The Other Guy? Yeah. Banner’s fighting Him off but He’s definitely asking to make an appearance.”

Violet watched Bruce watch them. At least he didn’t seem to mind that they were talking about him. “What do we do?”

Tony glanced at her. “I would suggest you get in the hallway behind Sameen and stay down.”

She glanced back at the body guard, then back at Tony. “That doesn’t make sense. If I’m what he’s worried about shouldn’t I stay were he can see I’m fine?”

There was a pause, then Tony looked at her as if she had either said something idiotic or brilliant. Violet shook her head, stepped around Tony’s arm and did exactly what she would have done if Bruce didn’t occasionally turn into an eight foot tall green rage monster.

Ignoring the odd, distorted way he was standing and the distinctly green tint to his eyes, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding tight. “I’m all right,” she whispered for good measure.

His arms came around her immediately, with just a little too much force. She squeaked a little at the crush, but he didn’t seem to notice, burying his face in her shoulder. She could hear him taking big gulping breaths of her scent and leaned her head on his for a little extra contact.

“I’m all right,” she repeated, rubbing his back in little circles. “Sameen said I did a good job.” She paused, listening to his breathing slowly calm. “Guy pretended he’d written an essay comparing Hamlet to Catcher in the Rye. Deserves to be arrested for that alone.

Bruce actually chuckled a little at that and the sound was him and him alone. Behind her, she heard Tony whisper, “Holy shit.” The tension level in the room dropped dramatically.

His arms loosened incrementally, until what had been slightly constricting turned into a normal friendly hug. Since his breathing had calmed significantly as well, she felt comfortable pulling back to look at his face. He was definitely Bruce again, looking a little worn out and dazed, but Bruce nonetheless. 

She put a hand to his cheek so he’d look at her. “I was about to have coffee. Do you want to join me for an early lunch?”

He swallowed a few times, then nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he said, and his voice was hoarse but still his own. “That would. . . probably be good.”

“Right,” Tony said behind her and Violet jumped a little. She’d half forgotten he was there. “I have to go deal with the cops,” he continued. “We’ll get out of your hair. I’ll see you tonight to pick up Ruby.”

She turned to look at him, surprised he was just going to leave his baby here after the close call. She met Tony’s eyes and thought of his warning earlier. It was a moment like this he’d been worried about, not any of the problems that arose in more mundane relationships. He’d been afraid that the day would come when she’d see Bruce at his worst and turn away. And that was why it hadn’t mattered that she hadn’t even kissed the man. Bruce needed as many people as possible that accepted him for who he was. Other Guy and all.

“I will see you tonight then,” she said, voice steady.

Tony nodded firmly and glanced behind her at Bruce. Then he smiled very faintly and turned to Sameen. “C’mon.”

Her brow hiked. “You’re sure.”

“Yeah. She’s got it. Come on.” The second one sounded a little more authoritative.  
 Sameen shrugged and headed for the door, Tony following. He closed her door quietly behind them.

She turned back to Bruce to find he seemed to have caught up with the events of the last few moments. “Vi - I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“You were worried about me,” she said softly. “And it upset you.” And, to be honest, that touched her deeply. “Come have lunch. It’s all right.”

He looked down at her and she met his gaze, watching dozens of emotions flicker through the dark brown eyes. Uncertainty, fear, embarrassment. She couldn’t read what he finally settled on, but in the end he nodded and managed a tiny half smile. “Yes. Lunch.”

Figuring they’d touched plenty in the last few minutes that a little more wouldn’t hurt, she slipped her hand into his. After a brief hesitation, he wove his fingers through hers and let her tug him into the kitchen.

*

“On the bright side, it’s not like she walked into on you having a threesome with twins dressed as nuns while you had on a priest’s collar.”

Bruce bowed his head with a sigh. It had been almost a week since the “the park incident” as everyone had been calling it, and Tony was still trying to “make him feel better.” By listing increasingly bizarre and occasionally gross things Pepper had caught him doing before they were together.

“No,” he agreed finally when it was obvious Tony was waiting for a reaction of some sort. “That is not a thing that would ever happen.” He paused and looked over at him. “Nuns? Not Catholic school girls?”

Tony looked offended. “That would just be weird.”

“Right.” He drew his attention back to his computer console. 

“So how is she doing with the whole thing?” Tony’s tone was so deliberately casual he was immediately suspicious.

“Fine, I suppose.”

“Does that mean you haven’t really spoken to her since it happened?”

Bruce sighed, because that was exactly what it meant. The first day or two hadn’t been intentional, they were both busy people with full time jobs. They exchanged a few texts agreeing as much and went about their days. Her parents came in for the weekend to see her new place and she gave him permission to be scarce so they could avoid any awkward “meet the parents” moments. 

He told himself it was for the best. Time apart would do him good. Obviously the. . . tension between them was putting him a little on edge. He hadn’t come that close to breaking in a long time and it was sheer dumb luck that she’d been able to calm him enough to get the Other Guy under control. Maybe it was time to take a break from the city, from people. Once the stress tests were done on the generator he could take some time up in the woods. Go to his cabin and get his bearings again.

“I’m giving her space,” was all he said to Tony, inputing the last few numbers and setting the computer running its simulations.

Tony was staring at something on his phone. “Did she ask for this space?” He was starting to get distracted. Maybe Bruce could wind this up before escaping to find lunch and he’d have forgotten by the time he got back.

“She seems fine with it.”

The other man made a noncommittal noise, tapping away at his phone. A few moments later, Bruce’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed, pulling it out but instead of the expected passive-aggressive message from Tony it was from Violet. _Lunch? Ruby and Neil are napping on my bed like a pile of puppies._

He stared at the words a minute, resolve faltering. _I’d love to, but I’m busy with some data._

_Really? ‘Cause Tony said you just finished and are staring at a computer as it processes._

He looked up swiftly at Tony, still puttering on his phone. “Seriously? Are you passing notes to her in Social Studies now?”

Tony shrugged. “She asked if you were busy for lunch. I said no.”

Bruce cracked his jaw and sighed, trying to see it as a good thing. Tony was looking out for him. His intentions were good. He looked back at the text message and his shoulders slumped. God, he really wanted to see her.

_What are we having?_ he asked.

_If I order Indian right now it might get here before your computer’s done thinking._

He smiled. She certainly knew how to bribe him. _Get me a vindaloo, I’ll be up in a minute._

Slipping off his stool, he gathered up his jacket and satchel, ignoring Tony’s watchful eye. “Don’t be smug,” he told him as he headed for the door.

Tony said something at his retreating back - probably being smug - but Bruce was in too good a mood to care.


	9. Chapter 9

Computer and theoretical tests for the generator took up the rest of April and into May. They took a week off for Tony to judge the science fair at Ada’s school. He drove her home every day in his sports car of the month, thereby cementing her social standing for the rest of the school year if not well into the next. 

Bruce gave up avoiding Violet. He hadn’t been very good at it to begin with and it didn’t make him any less tense. He was still toying with the idea of the cabin upstate, though. The Other Guy had become more and more volatile, and while he could keep him in check for the most part, it was a strain.

He went out to the quarry a few times with Thor to get some aggression out. The Other Guy seemed to like the Asgardian in a “worthy adversary” type of way and minded his strength when sparring with him. Thor, for his part, rarely had opportunities to actually push his abilities on Earth, and seemed to appreciate the “calisthenics” as he called them. It helped. As did the quiet fussing Violet did when he came back with a new bruise or split eyebrow.

In late May it was finally time to start real world stress tests. He and Tony cleared out a lab on the deepest level and pulled in a couple of researchers from R&D. They sent out a series of emails to the building warning people there might be power fluctuations and to make sure surge protectors and auxiliary backups were plugged in and running.

The ugly metal box that Bruce was starting to grow rather attached to sat in the center of the room, several long cables running off it. One connecting it to the building’s power grid, others to various monitors and computers that would tell him how well it was handling the varying levels of drain. A big red kill switch sat by itself on a table to one side. Bruce and Tony were both fans of the big red button theory of science. Hard to miss and easy to see. Everyone wanted to slam a big red button at least once in their life.

The R&D guys were double checking everything one more time when Tony’s phone buzzed and he stepped out in the hall to take it. Bruce always expected to have terrible reception down here in the science caves, but then he remembered he worked with Tony Stark, who was above such things.

Tony stepped in a moment later. “Hey, Pepper’s having issues with some guys from Dow. She wants me to come up and play reckless billionaire cop. You got this?”

“Yeah, you don’t want me to wait for you?”

He waved a hand. “Give me the bullet points when I get back.”

Bruce nodded and waited for the door to swing shut before turning to his assistants. “All right. Let’s rev it up.”

The first few tests ran as expected. The little box could handle the power equivalent of a small hospital. Bruce changed the parameters, having it run a handful of houses, then a street worth, then a village and a small town. The numbers were right where he wanted them to be.

“Right, let’s do a couple of stress tests. See if she can handle a lightning storm.”

R&D guy number one - Bruce was terrible with names - checked a couple of connections, then set up the power to give the generator a major surge. The numbers spiked immediately, as expected. 

What he didn’t expect was for them to keep going. He frowned, watching the monitor go nuts. His instincts went on alert and in the back of his mind that old familiar pressure began to build.

He didn’t have time to deal with that right now. “Kill it,” he said. “Hit the button.”

R&D guy number two took a step towards the big red button. Then the generator gave a little popping sound and Bruce thought, _Maybe that will be all._

Then the little grey box exploded. Light flared, blinding him and he felt himself recede even as everything seemed to turn slightly green.

*

“Do you think you’ll be able to come to the shore this summer?”

Violet held a spoonful of squash up to Ruby and waited patiently for the little girl to decide whether or not she was willing to eat it. “It depends on the Stark’s vacation schedule,” she told her mother. “Pepper promised I’d get some vacation time to myself, but that they might like me to tag along on theirs.”

“Well maybe a long weekend then,” her mother said. After their visit in April her parents had come to terms with her being “a servant.” Neil’s therapy was obviously helping, Ada was as happy as she’d ever been and Violet was, according to her mother, visibly less stressed. Pepper had even come down to meet them briefly, Ruby on her hip and their combined charm had won Violet’s mother over.

“That’s probably doable,” she agreed. Ruby finally took a cautious bite of the squash - which she’d had dozens of times before, but one never knew - and Violet cheered silently for her as she gummed it.

“You remember our neighbor, Mrs. Sherwood?” her mother asked brightly, apparently done with the vacation guilt.

“Mmm?”

“Her son got divorced last year and has started to date again -”

Oh, she knew where this was going. “Mom, no.”

“He came over a few times in the winter and shoveled for them,” her mother pressed on. “Did our walk too, so your father didn’t have to. I spoke to him. He’s lovely, a forensic accountant, whatever that is.”

“Mom.”

“He’s thirty eight, which I know is old but-”

“Mom. I’m sure Mrs. Sherwood’s divorcee son is a very nice man. I meet a lot of very nice men every day. If I want to date one, I will. I do not need you to set me up.”

Her mother sighed. “I know. I know. I just. . . I want you to be happy.”

“Happy doesn’t have to include a man, Mom,” she said gently. “I have friends. I have the kids. I like where I am right now. Maybe I’ll add a man to that, maybe I’ll just be happy as is. You gotta accept that.”

There was silence for a moment. “You just seem lonely, honey. You have so much love in you. I want you to find someone who deserves it.”

Her mother sounded choked up, which, of course made Violet’s throat close up. She took a couple deep breaths and a sip of cold coffee before answering. “I’m open to the possibility, okay? You can’t force it.”

However her mother responded, it was drowned out by a distant boom that seemed to shudder the whole building. Violet glanced up as the lights flickered repeatedly before normalizing. “Uh, Mom? I gotta go. Ruby - Ruby’s smearing her breakfast in her hair.” That was a total lie and the baby gave her a look as if she’d understood and was offended.

“Of course. Go, go. Let me know about this summer.” 

“I will. Bye.” She hung up before hearing her mother’s farewell. “JARVIS? Should I be evacuating?”

There was the slightest pause. She imagined he was answering similar questions throughout the building. “There was an accident in the labs. The building is in no danger.”

The labs - “Is Bruce all right?”

Another pause. Longer this time. Her stomach clenched in fear. “Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts are on their way to your apartment.”

A non-answer that was as good as a negative. Needing something to do, she wiped Ruby’s face and hands and lifted her out of the highchair, tucking her onto her shoulder. The little girl nuzzled her face into Violet’s neck as if to comfort her.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Violet said out loud, pacing out into the living room. “There’s lots of labs. It doesn’t necessarily have to be the one he was in.”

She was still pacing when the door opened and Tony and Pepper came in.

“What’s going on?” Violet asked as she handed Ruby to Pepper.

“Bruce and two assistants were testing an experimental generator in the lower labs,” Tony said. “It appears to have exploded.”

Pepper was glaring at Tony. Violet wondered briefly if they had been arguing about what to tell her as they came down. “Is Bruce all right?” she asked.

Tony hesitated. “His. . . security system deployed.”

It took her a moment to parse that. “The Other Guy? He changed?”

Tony nodded and Pepper said, “It’s being contained. Once the immediate danger is gone he should revert and be fine.”

“Contained. . . Isn’t there anything you can do to calm him down?”

“That usually doesn’t work very well,” Tony said in such a tone she wondered what on earth had happened last time they tried. “Natasha’s down there running the situation. It’ll be fine.”

Violet looked from one to the other, feeling anything but fine. She took a few breaths before she trusted herself to speak. “Well, thank you for telling me.”

“I was going to take Ruby upstairs while we wait for news,” Pepper offered. “You’re welcome to come sit with us.”

She could feel Tony watching her, as if he could read exactly what she was thinking on her face. “No. Thank you. I don’t think I’ll be good company.”

Pepper looked unconvinced, but she nodded. “Offer’s open if you change your mind.” She touched Tony’s arm and headed for the door.

He stayed to study Violet another moment. “Where’s your son?”

“Preschool till noon,” she told him calmly. “Then his therapist brings him home.”

Pepper had stopped at the door. Tony took a step closer to Violet and said quietly, “If he hurt you, we’d never get him back.”

“I know,” she said, just as soft. He nodded sharply and joined Pepper at the door without another word.

Violet counted in her head. Ten to get to the elevator. Twenty for it to arrive. Another twenty or so to get up to their floor. She counted up to eighty, just in case, then moved, slipping her feet into a pair of loafers before stepping into the hallway. The elevator doors slid open almost as soon as she’d touched the call button. She stared at the floor numbers a moment, then touched the one labeled SS4, the lowest sub basement they admitted to having.

The lift started going down smoothly. JARVIS’s posh, British voice sounded tinny on the speakers. “Mrs. Marsh, where are you going?”

She studied her blurry reflection in the back of the elevator doors to keep from looking up. “JARVIS, what will it take to get you to call me Violet?”

“I was not programed that way, Mrs. Marsh.”

If she was a sci-fi fan, she would probably worry more about the sentient AI that ran her place of work and home.

“Sub basement four is not safe for civilians at this time.”

Now she did look up. “Are you going to stop me?” she asked him. There were fire stairs in the building. She was pretty sure he couldn’t lock those doors.

“It’s not in my programming to inhibit free will,” he told her.

“Good.” The elevator slowed and stopped, doors sliding open to reveal a stark white hallway. She stepped out onto the shiny vinyl floor and the doors closed behind her.

To her right, the hallway lay bare and smooth, looking hospital sterile. To her left, there were about ten feet of clean floor, then some random pieces of broken wall and collapsed ceiling tiles. Beyond that the walls and floor were black with soot. 

Glad she’d thought to put shoes on, she began to pick her way through the debris. She assumed the large hole in the wall at the end of the hallway was the source of the blast. This was confirmed when she was still a few yards away and a roar that vibrated through her chest and caused her to clap her hands over her ears echoed out of the room.

She stood like that for a moment, hands on her ears, heart pounding, and considered turning around. Tony had said they had it contained. It wasn’t the first time Bruce had changed. Obviously they had some sort of procedure for it. She could go back upstairs, maybe all the way up to the penthouse for some of the booze that Tony kept on hand. She’d see Bruce when this was all over.

But this thing with Bruce - and there was a thing, whether they were currently acknowledging it or not - it wasn’t going away. And it wasn’t getting better. And it wasn’t, let’s be honest, platonic. On either side. They were getting to the point the air crackled when they were in the same room. It kept her up at night, sometimes in rather x-rated ways. Sooner or later something was going to have to give. And the only way they were going to move forward instead of burning out was if she’d faced the Other Guy and come away still wanting Bruce.

So she pried her hands away from her ears, straightened her shoulders like she was walking into a classroom for the first time, and stepped into the blown out lab.

Men in black armored uniforms with very large guns milled around the opening and lined what was left of one wall. None of them paid her much mind as she slipped through them, distracted as they were by something in the middle of the room. Violet heard a crackle like a TASER firing and another roar and pushed her way to the front.

Seeing the Other Guy in person was entirely different from seeing him in poor quality amateur video. He was far larger than she’d expected, seemingly too big for the room to hold him. Violet imagined this must be what it was like to be in a room with a wild animal. A vague sense of wrongness. An instinct that wasn’t quite fear, but something older and saner. She should absolutely not be in a room with something that large.

He stood at the edge of what looked like a crater, obviously the origin of the explosion. Two men in heavier black armor stood in front of him, wielding what looked like long staffs. Metal prongs stuck out of the end of them and she remembered the sound of electricity and realized they must be cattle prods of some kind. Her fists clenched and had she been the one with an anger-generated creature in her head she surely would have unleashed her.

“Violet?”

She peeled her gaze away from the ugly little tableau and turned to find a pretty red haired woman in street clothes standing next to her. Natasha Romanov. Bruce had introduced them ages ago, when Violet had first moved into the Tower and they had exchanged nods and pleasantries a handful of times since. Currently, the redhead was looking at her as if she was a ghost.

“Tony told me what happened,” Violet said, utterly amazed at how normal her voice sounded.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Natasha told her gently. “I don’t think Bruce would want you here.”

Probably true, but that didn’t mean she shouldn’t be here anyway. “I calmed him down once before.”

Natasha shook her head. “That was different, he wasn’t entirely gone. Please go back upstairs, we’ll handle this.”

Before she could argue there was that goddamned crackle again and the Other Guy roared. Natasha flinched at the sound and Violet turned to see the men with the prods trying to herd the Other Guy away from the crater.

Maybe she did have some sort of anger-generated creature in her, because at the sight of that she pushed past Natasha and strode across the cracked, uneven floor to the crater. There was a flutter of noise behind her, but no one shouted or ran to stop her.

She reached the men and the monster, planted her feet and said in her best gain-control-of-the-class-after-lunch voice, “Excuse me.”

They turned, all three of them, the men with looks of shock, the Other Guy with a half snarl coming from his throat. She ignored the guards and looked right at the Hulk. Up this close, she could concede that it was a fitting name for him.

She waited until the snarl faded and his eyes focused on her properly before she spoke again. “Hello,” she said with a calm she was far from feeling. “I think it’s time we met.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See ya Thursday! *runs away cackling*


	10. Chapter 10

Violet had read _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ in college. She hadn’t liked it much. Too sensational and pulpy and the teacher had tried to teach it as if it had some deep meaning, instead of being a fairly inventive horror story. If she wanted a treatise on the duality on men’s good and bad side she’d go for _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ any time.

She’d referenced it the first time Bruce had told her about the Other Guy, it being the best touch stone for his condition she could think of. She regretted that now. Stevenson spent a great deal of time harping on how _evil_ Hyde was. “If ever I read Satan’s signature upon a face” and so forth. 

Looking up into the Hulk’s eyes, she didn’t see any evil. She saw anger and fear and pain. And just a tiny, faint hint of Bruce, somewhere deep inside. She hoped that if he was aware of what was going on somewhere in the back of his head he wasn’t panicking too much. She hoped he trusted himself as much as she did.

She glanced over at the men with the prods. “Back up, please.”

They looked at her as if she was nuts until Natasha spoke from behind her, “Do it.”

Hulk watched them take a few steps back and snorted in what sounded like satisfaction.

“Better?” Violet asked.

He looked back at her and straightened a bit. She had no idea how tall, exactly, he was. Websites she had found when curiosity had gotten the better of her estimated between eight and nine feet. At that point, it probably didn’t matter much to her. Three feet taller than her or four, he could probably scoop her up in one of those big green hands as easily as she picked up Ruby. Easier.

Right, well, she had the big guy’s attention, now what?

Before she could decide, he leaned closer again. She stayed still as a stone as he brought that huge head close to her and sniffed a little. He didn’t touch her, just sniffed. When he straightened some of the tension seemed to be gone.

“Violet,” he said in a deep, gruff, but perfectly understandable voice.

The collective gasp from the people behind her was almost comical. She smiled a little. Score one for the not-a-nanny.

“Yes,” she said. “Do I call you Hulk?” He grunted, which she took as acquiescence. “Bruce told me you protect him,” she continued. “Is he hurt?” She wasn’t entirely clear on how the whole transformation thing happened, but she knew he healed quicker as the Hulk. If the explosion had caught him before he’d gone green he might be sticking around to make sure the worst of it was healed.  
 But Hulk was shaking his head and shifting restlessly. Okay. Bruce was safe. Good.

“If he’s not hurt, then why are you still. . . out?” He glanced behind her and snarled at the guards and she reached out instinctively to touch his hand.

He whirled back to her, looking first at her hand on his, then her face. Someone behind her made a noise and he took a step towards them, roaring.

She clutched at his hand, praying he didn’t knock her away. “Don’t look at them, look at me,” she said and, miraculously, he obeyed. She risked a look back at the guards. “The next one of you that makes him twitchy gets to write me an essay on your least favorite Shakespeare play, got it?”

A few of them looked down like misbehaving children. Hulk made a noise that could only be called a chuckle. He had a sense of humor, good to know.

“If I send them away, will you change back?” she asked, still holding his hand. Well, finger. She wasn’t entirely sure she had the power to send all the men away, but she currently seemed to be in charge of the room, so maybe they’d do her a solid.

But Hulk was shaking his head. She sighed, frustrated. Something else was going on, but he wasn’t able to articulate it. It reminded her of when Neil was younger, before she’d realized he had cognitive issues. He’d be desperate to tell her something or ask for something, but didn’t have to tools to get his words across. He’d never tantrum or get mad, just kept trying until she got it or he gave up.

Giving up was obviously not an option, so she needed to figure this out. He wasn’t protecting Bruce. He wasn’t mad about the guards, at least not entirely. Why else would he be here long after the danger was over? Was the danger _not_ over? No, whatever had exploded was gone and JARVIS would have warned them if the ceiling was about to cave in or something. Besides, he seemed to like her. If the room was dangerous he’d be getting her out of it, not letting her stand-

Oh, hell.

“The assistants. You’re protecting the other men who were here.”

In response, he shook her hands off his and scooped her up, just as she’d imagined him doing a few minutes ago.

“I was serious about the essay,” she called to the guards before they could start shouting and drawing their guns.

He held her very gently, like she was made of spun glass, tucked in the crook of his tree trunk of an arm. She was absolutely never going to be able to watch King Kong the same again.

With her in his arm he crossed the crater and two steps and deposited her on the other side. There, in what looked like wreckage from the ceiling and whatever equipment they’d been using before the blast, were two young men in lab coats.

Violet half walked, half stumbled over the debris to reach the men. One was conscious enough to reach out for her and she caught his hand while checking the other for a pulse. She found it, thready but there, in the base of his jaw at the carotid.

She looked up at Hulk. “They need a doctor to look at them before we move them. Will you let a doctor through?”

He nodded eagerly and she had the sense he was relieved someone had finally understood. 

“Natasha?” she called out.

“Yeah?” came the reply.

“There’s two injured men over here. Can you get a doctor in? He says he’ll let them through.”

“On it.” Dimly, Violet heard the murmur of Natasha talking into her radio.

Confident help would be here soon, she sat between the men, still holding the conscious one’s hand. She left her fingers on the other’s pulse, just in case.

She squeezed the man’s hand and tried to smile. “It’ll be all right,” she told him.

“He protected us,” he whispered. “Jumped between us and the explosion. If it wasn’t for the shrapnel we’d be fine.”

Squeezing his hand again, she smiled for real. “That’s what he does,” she told him softly. “He protects people.”

*

Bruce wasn’t much of a partier in college. Too busy trying to think of all the ways he was going to change the world once he graduated. But he had enjoyed sitting up late with his roommates and pondering life’s mysteries over whatever bottle of booze someone had managed to get a hold of, smoking cigarettes and whatever else happened to get passed around. One particular evening, he’d stayed up almost till dawn with his buddy Reed, with two bottles of whiskey and a case of cigarettes. He was pretty sure they’d solved world hunger and the meaning of life by the time they finally passed out. When he’d woken up that afternoon he’d forgotten it all and had the worst hangover of his life.

Waking up after being the Other Guy was slightly worse than that.

He was laying on something soft, that was nice. That didn’t always happen. Cracking an eye open he was relieved to see the room was dim. He was even more relieved to see he was at least half dressed in a pair of his own sweat pants and covered with a soft quilt.

Reassured that he was safe enough, he closed his eyes again and took a deep breath, trying to remember what had happened. He’d been testing the generator in the basement. Tests had been going fine, then they tried the power surge and the numbers had gone crazy.

The explosion. The assistants. He lifted a hand and rubbed his head. Well, that explained the hangover from hell.

Then the guards had come in and it had all gone downhill. As it often did. He was going to need to talk to Tony about official Hulk handling procedure. The prods hurt more than advertised.

Something had stopped them. They’d backed off when Violet told them to.

He jerked upright. “Violet!”

There was a clatter from somewhere to his left and he realized he was in her apartment, on her couch. She appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She was in soft grey yoga pants and a tank top, hair damp and curly against her back. His breath went out of him in a rush, relief flooding him and driving away some of his headache.

She tossed her towel back towards the kitchen and came towards him. “They weren’t sure how long you’d sleep.”

He had to resist touching her when she sat on the couch next to his legs. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to stop if he did. “What time is it? Where are the kids?”

“It’s almost five. Ruby’s with her parents and mine are with Jane and Thor. He helped get you up here and Tony managed to get you dressed.” She lifted a hand and touched his forehead, brushing an errant lock of hair back. “How do you feel?”

All he wanted to do was lean into her touch. “You were there, I remember you being there.”

She looked vaguely guilty. “The explosion shook the building. Tony and Pepper came to get Ruby and told me what had happened and I just. . . I went down to see if I could help.”

“How could you-” He rubbed a hand over his face. Of course she would. She’d wrapped her arms around him when he’d been seconds from changing over, of course she’d gone to help.

His memories of being the Other Guy ranged from stark and nightmarish to vague and fuzzy. But he remembered her. Seeing her for the first time. She seemed to glow, like a beacon among the dark suited guards. She was so small it was like looking down at her from the top of a cliff. He couldn’t believe she’d seen the Other Guy.

“He didn’t -” His throat tightened and Bruce rubbed a hand over his mouth before tried again. “He didn’t frighten you, did he? Hurt you?”

“No! Bruce, no.” She reached out and caught his hand, pulling it away from his face. “I wasn’t afraid, not once I got close enough to talk to him. He was very gentle with me, very careful. He knew who I was.”

Bruce stared at her a moment. “What do you mean he knew who you were?”

Hesitantly, as if she was afraid it would make him feel worse somehow, she said, “He said my name.”

Blood roared in his ears and he felt oddly dizzy. “He said-”

“Everyone heard it.” Her voice was oddly pleading. “They all gasped, like it was a twist in a movie or something.” She hesitated, then squeezed his hand a little. “Bruce?”

He shook his head, unable to form words. He’d known the Other Guy was aware of what happened around him when Bruce was in charge. He’d saved Tony in the Battle of New York, listened to Steve as his leader. He knew better than to hurt Thor when they were sparring. But those were all times that Bruce had let him out purposefully. The transition then was calmer, his awareness sharper. This time he’d changed in response to a danger. That usually left him reacting like a cornered animal, attacking anything that came in his path.

Violet stood slowly, shaking him out of his thoughts. “They said you’re usually hungry after you - well, after. I made some soup.” She stepped away from the couch back towards the kitchen.

He watched her, the swing of her blonde hair as she turned. He’d said her name. In the midst of pain and anger, surrounded by men with guns, and the Other Guy had known her. Had been gentle.

Bruce lurched off the couch. “Violet.”

She turned back to him, brow creased in concern. He closed the distance between them, buried a hand in her hair and kissed her.

It was not a gentle or hesitant kiss. It was not a careful, almost chaste first kiss. It was rough and urgent and full of months of denial and need.

He felt her surprise, heard the little noise she made in her throat at the suddenness of it. Then she wrapped her arms around him, nails digging into his back as she pulled herself closer to him.

Using the grip on her hair he tilted her head back, kissing her deeper as she opened her mouth to his. His other hand fisted in the fabric of her shirt, then slid beneath it, flattening against the soft skin of her back. She shifted against him, as if she couldn’t decide if she wanted get closer to him or his hand. He stroked up her back, discovered she was not, in fact, wearing a bra, and gave a groan that was damn near a growl into her mouth.

She broke the kiss with a gasp and stepped away from him. For a heartbeat he thought he’d scared her off, but she just grabbed fistfuls of her shirt and yanked it off. She tossed it aside before pouncing on him again, cupping his face as she kissed him again.

 The feel of her bare skin on his had to be one of the best things he’d ever felt. She was so soft, body curved to fit his, small breasts crushed against his chest. he wanted to touch her everywhere at one. To kiss and taste every inch of skin. He tightened his arms around her, lifting her a little so he could run a trail of kisses down her jaw and throat.

More, he needed more. The couch was behind him, but too small, too narrow. He didn’t want to worry about falling off. Grateful she didn’t have a coffee table to maneuver around, he kneeled and laid her down on the soft white carpet, bracing himself on his hand so he could look down at her.

She looked vaguely stunned, mouth red and swollen from his kisses. Her hair fanned out around her head like a halo. She smiled and reached for him, and he’d honestly never seen anything quite so beautiful. 

He let her pull him down for another rough kiss. His hands wandered her skin as he explored her mouth. Her breasts were small and supple, nipples tightening when he stroked his thumbs over them.

She arched into his touch, sucking in a sharp breath. Bruce released her mouth, burying his face in the crick of her neck and taking a deep breath of vanilla and spice.

_She’s mine,_ he told that little presence in the back of his head. _You take care of her the way you protect me. If you hurt her I’ll spend the rest of my life finding a way to end you._

And, from deep in the dark corners of his mind, where Bruce had never, ever gotten an answer before, he swore he heard the Other Guy tell him, **OURS.**

Confident that in this, at least, they were in perfect agreement, Bruce moved down Violet’s body, dropping a line of open mouthed kisses along her collar bone. He nuzzled the notch of her sternum before turning his head to kiss the soft skin of her breast and draw one taut nipple into his mouth.

Her fingers speared into his hair, gasping out his name. He felt her legs shift, knees bending to bracket his hips. Flattening his hand on her stomach, he slid it down, stroking velvety soft skin until he met the boundary of her waistband.

He lifted his mouth a fraction of an inch and he mumbled into her skin, “Stop. Should I stop?”

The grip on his hair grew almost painful and she all but growled, “Don’t you _dare_.”

Chuckling a little, he worked his hand under the well loved cotton of her pants, waistband bunching up at his wrist, and slid his fingers against the soft folds of her sex. She was soaking wet and he couldn’t help but groan at the proof of her arousal. Violet made her own quiet sound and he lifted his head to watch her as he touched her.

She was flushed, head thrown back against the carpet. He stroked his fingers lower, coating them in her moisture, before parting her folds and teasing her. Her throat worked and she reached for him, wrapping her hand around the arm that he was braced on. 

Time seemed to slow for him as he pet her, watching for the signs that would tell him he’d found the right spot, the right pressure. When her hand clenched on his wrist and her legs shifted restlessly he knew he had it and grinned, repeating that stroke again and again, until she was gasping for breath and rocking her hips up to him.

He bent close, breathing in her scent, now gone heady and thick with arousal, and suddenly he wanted more. Going up on his knees, he used his free hand to tug her pants down. She kicked desperately, trying to help get them down. He tossed them over his shoulder and shifted back, bending to kiss the soft curve of her belly, then lowered his mouth to her sex.

She gave a low, shuddering moan that almost sounded like his name. He found her clit with his tongue, licking in slow, broad strokes until she was gasping again. She tasted the way she smelled, rich and spicy and oddly like home. She’d been close to climax from just his fingers and he could feel desperation in the way she lifted her hips, heard it in the quiet whimpers that came between her gasps. Wanting to feel her, he brought his hand back up to slip two fingers inside her.

It was, apparently, exactly what she needed. In seconds she was clenching around him, body shaking with the force of her pleasure. He lifted his head to watch her, fingers stroking lazily as she rode it out.

He had thought she was beautiful before, but it was nothing compared to now. Her body arched like a bow, skin slick with sweat. Her skin was flushed, nipples dark and swollen. Unable to resist, he leaned up to take one in his mouth. Violet gave a noise that was almost a sob and he felt her hands yank at the drawstring of his pants, shoving them down his legs.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, please.”

The words almost shattered him right there. He braced himself above her again, inches from thrusting into her and stopped himself with a growl. “Condoms,” he muttered, kissing below her ear. “I should find-” Who would have any? They were surrounded by long term relationships. Fuck it, he’d go door to door if he had to.

She stroked his hair, hips arching up in invitation. “It’s all right. I’m all right.”

Shaking his head, he managed to grind out, “I can’t. . . no accidents.”

Her legs wound around him. “IUD,” she told him. “It’s all right. I promise.” She stroked sweat damp hair out of his eyes. “Trust me.”

It snapped the last of his control and he shifted, sinking into her heat with one long stroke. She was slick and so tight he had to bow his head and breathe before he lost himself right then. God, he’d never let himself imagine she would feel this good.

He became aware of tension in her muscles and lifted his head swiftly. Her breath was coming in short little pants and he couldn’t tell if it was pain or pleasure. She was so small and it must have been years. . .

She flattened a palm against his jaw and smiled. “I’m all right. Just. . . slow.”

Bracing on an elbow to keep his weight off of her, he obeyed, sliding out with excruciating patience, before thrusting forward again at the same speed. Her lids fluttered and she arched her neck, breath evening out.

“Good?” he murmured, letting his free hand wander her body.

“Good,” she gasped. “Very. Very.” He rolled her nipple between his fingers and she bucked. “Bruce!”

He grinned, surprised he could have anything resembling smug male pride left in him. He kept up the same slow pace but continued stroking her breasts. Soon she was lifting her hips urgently.

“More?” 

She nodded frantically and he bent and kissed her. He tugged one of her legs up higher on his hip and began to thrust harder, faster. It was enough force she slid against the carpet and she reached up, wrapping her arms around him to keep them connected.

It was the sweetest kind of torture, holding himself in check while her pleasure built. He nuzzled at her hair, tasting salt on her skin. “Will you come for me again?” He barely recognized his voice gone low and rough with arousal.

Whimpering, she nodded again. “Close, I’m close.” Her hands moved urgently on his back, nails digging into his skin.

He slid his hand between them and found her clit. “Will this help?” He stroked two fingers against her, firmly, the way she’d liked.

“Ah, God. Yes.” Her mouth found his in a rough, sloppy kiss. “You feel so good,” she mumbled. “So good.”

Her body started to shake again an instant before he felt her begin to clench around him. Growling, he drove into her deeper, wanting to feel every inch of it, every spasm. Her legs tightened on him, holding him closer. Her climax triggered his and he buried his face in her hair, clutching her tight to his chest as he let go.


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing Bruce became aware of after his orgasm had passed and his heartbeat had stopped thundering in his ears, was the sensation of Violet lazily stroking her fingers through the coarse mat of hair on his chest. His face was still pressed into her hair and he shifted slightly to press a gentle kiss to her temple. “You like that?”

Her nails scraped his chest lightly. “Mmm. I bet you’re warm in the winter.”

A chuckle rumbled through him and he shifted back so he could look at her. “You okay?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I think this might be the first time I got rug burn on my back and my front at the same time.”

He winced a little. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t- I could have done this better.”

“Bruce, honey, if you’d done this any better I don’t think I’d be conscious right now.”

Well, there was the smug male pride again. Tightening his arms around her, he rolled onto his back, tugging her onto his chest. He was just able to snag the quilt off the couch with his foot and pulled it up over them to keep her warm.

Violet folded her hands on his chest and rested her cheek on top of them, studying his face. “You okay?” she asked after a moment.

He ran his fingers through her hair, pausing to carefully pick out a tangle. “I can’t recall ever having been better.”

They lay in silence a moment while he toyed with her hair. He noticed she was giving him a rather quizzical look. “What is it?”

She shook her head a little. “Nothing. I think I’m waiting for you to tell me this was a mistake and a one time thing.”

His hands stilled in her hair. “Do you want it to be a one time thing?”

Her mouth curved into a slow smile. “No. I would like this to be a multiple time thing. A frequent time thing. I’m even hoping for one more time tonight after the kids are in bed thing, but you’ve had a bit of a day so I’m not going to push my luck.

Smug male pride was getting a work out today. He ran his fingers through her hair again. “We’re bad at this platonic thing, aren’t we?”

Violet giggled. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her giggle before. “We’ve certainly ruined it now.”

No, there was no putting this genie back in the bottle. After weeks of being careful not to touch anything more interesting than her hand for fear of starting something he couldn’t stop, he now had her naked body draped across his and he really didn’t think he could go back. That second time tonight thing was extremely appealing.

“I still don’t know what I have to offer you,” he admitted. Her brows went up in a suggestive expression worthy of Tony and Bruce smiled, tugging her hair. “Okay, I can think of a couple things.” He sobered. “But I still can’t make you any promises.”

She pressed a kiss into his chest and stroked her hand over the spot. “My husband promised me forever and died at thirty two. I think I’d rather you didn’t make me any promises. Just give me right now, today. And we’ll figure out tomorrow in the morning.”

He could live with that, he realized. There was no certainty in the world. Not for schoolteachers and certainly not for superheroes. He was happy, right here, with this woman in his arms. That would be more than enough for now.

Tugging her gently, he caught her mouth in a slow, gentle kiss. “I can do that,” he said softly.

*

Eventually - reluctantly - they rousted themselves off the floor and dressed. Bruce went up to his apartment to shower and Violet retrieved her kids from Jane and Thor. Ada helped her make grilled cheese sandwiches to go with the soup she’d made earlier for Bruce.

He returned half an hour later, clean shaven and hair still damp. The four of them had their soup and sandwiches in front of the TV watching a bootleg of the latest Disney movie courtesy of JARVIS. Violet was starting to wonder how she’d ever done anything without a helpful AI.

Ada had done her homework at Jane’s, but still insisted Violet check and sign it before she was willing to start her bedtime routine. Violet was tucking her in after reading her a chapter of Ramona the Pest when Ada asked, “Are you and Dr. Bruce going to get married?”

Violet swore her heart stopped for a moment. She put a hand to her chest just to be sure. “Why do you ask?”

Hesitantly, she admitted, “I saw him kiss you in the kitchen when you were doing dishes.”

Ah. “Not everyone who kisses gets married, baby. Bruce and I. . . we’ve just started kissing, okay? We’re not talking about getting married just yet.”

Her little girl seemed to ponder that a moment. “I like Dr. Bruce. He makes you smile.”

“Yes, he does,” Violet said softly. “And I like him very much. But grown up stuff is complicated sometimes.” She leaned over and kissed Ada’s cheek. “If marriage looks likely I will let you know, okay?”

“Thanks, Mom. Night.”

“Night, baby.”

Violet stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her. Only to find Bruce slipping out of Neil’s room. She cocked her head and he shrugged sheepishly.

“He fell asleep in my lap clutching an Iron Man action figure. I put him in bed. You can check if you like,” he added, hiking a thumb over his shoulder.

She smiled, affection welling up in her chest so strongly it was hard to talk for a moment. “I think you can handle toddler bed placement just fine.” She stepped closer and slid her arms around him, humming in pleasure when he immediately folded his around her. “I think he needs some Hulk toys. Diversify his imaginative play.”

“I thought you didn’t like green,” he said into her hair. She could tell he was smiling.

“It’s growing on me.” She rubbed his back lightly, then leaned back to look at him. “One question that I hope doesn’t ruin my chances of a second time thing.”

He looked worried, but said, “Go ahead.”

“You were a little. . . adamant about birth control earlier. Said there couldn’t be any accidents. Is there something I should know?”

Bruce took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly. He didn’t drop his arms away from her, though, which she considered a good sign. “The accident that caused the Other Guy altered my DNA. I can’t have kids. Most likely literally, but there’s a small chance something could stick. If so, it would almost certainly have an Other Guy of its own.”

She stared up at him a moment, lifting a hand to her mouth. She thought of how sweet he was with her kids, how much he loved teaching Ada new things. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”

He nodded and bent to rest his head on hers. “Sharing yours makes it a little easier.”

“I’m glad,” she said softly. An entirely inappropriate image came into her head and she bit her lip to hold it in.

He noticed anyway. “What?”

She shook her head sharply. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

“Violet. What is it?”

“No. I’m sorry. We’re having a serious conversation.”

He tipped his head down and said, “Vi,” like he might be willing to tickle the information out of her.

She sighed in exasperation. “I just had this little mental image of a toddler sized Hulk having a tantrum.”

For a moment he just looked at her and she felt just awful. Then she saw the corner of his mouth start to twitch upward and she relaxed, grinning. He started to chuckle, resting his head on hers again. She began to giggle, the image still fresh in her mind. She had a feeling he was laughing at her case of the giggles as much as the idea of a mini-Hulk.

When she’d calmed she found herself still wrapped in his arms, back against the wall. “Were you serious about tonight?” he asked, voice at least an octave lower.

She shivered a little, from the tone as much as the words. Her skin seemed to heat with anticipation. “Of course,” she whispered.

He smiled a little, then dipped his head to kiss her. It wasn’t as intense and desperate as his kisses earlier. But it was deep, and passionate and made heat flare inside of her.

When she slipped her arms around his neck he leaned back, lifting her off her feet. From there is was just natural to wrap her legs around him and let him carry her back to her bedroom.

Nothing really changed and yet everything seemed different. Bruce came up for lunch occasionally and dinner often. School ended for the summer and there were two weeks before Ada went to her summer science camp. Violet lasted three days of having three kids in the house, which was at least two and a half days longer than she would have without JARVIS around to answer all of Ada’s random questions. She loved her daughter and her active mind and how eager she was to learn. But a woman had her limits.

Bruce, bless him, was happy to take over the education duties when he came up for dinner. He taught Ada the periodic table, experimented with her in the kitchen, creating a variety of cookie batches to figure out what different ingredients did. They made a non-Newtonian fluid Ada dubbed Floo that she and Neil had a great time getting all over the kitchen table.

At the end of the week he even brought her down to the lab to see some of the things he and Stark were working on. This made Neil extremely jealous as he seemed to consider “Boos” _his_. So, Bruce brought him down once and, when Neil didn’t blow anything up and seemed to actually enjoy it, continued to do so a couple mornings a week in the interest of giving her some free time. Had she not already been halfway to falling in love with him, that would have done it.

Neil’s therapy was doing wonders. His language had blossomed and his ability to communicate with her had made life much easier. She never thought she’d be so happy to have a toddler demanding “Want yogurt!” as she was the first time he managed to string the words together.

She was in the kitchen one evening after dinner, making baby food for Ruby and listening to Bruce play with the kids with half an ear when she heard Neil say, very clearly, “Ah, fuck it.”

There was utter silence from the other room. Violet dried her hands off on a dish towel and stepped into the doorway. Bruce was seated with the kids doing a jigsaw puzzle. He and Ada were staring at Neil in horror. Neil, for his part, seemed to be seriously considering tasting the puzzle piece in his hands.

Bruce turned slowly to look at her. “I am _so sorry_.”

“He got that from Tony, didn’t he?”

“I warned him about his language, I swear.”

He looked so stricken she couldn’t help but start to laugh. “Did he use it in the correct context?”

Bruce glanced back at Neil, reaching over absently to take the puzzle piece out of his mouth. “Yes, actually. He was trying to get the piece to fit and got frustrated.”

Violet pinched the bridge of her nose, still chuckling as she shook her head. “Okay, well. I’m going to call that a win. But let’s not teach him any more, okay?”

“Can I swear if I use it in proper context?” Ada asked.

Oh, dammit. “You may pick one swear. You may use it no more than once a day and not in front of anyone but the family.”

Her face lit up. “Deal.” She paused and frowned. “Does JARVIS count?”

“He’s pretty much family. Now go brush your teeth, it’s bedtime.”

Ada muttered something that sounded like “shit” but got up and headed for her bedroom.

 Violet shook her head. “I’ve created a monster.”

“I’m really sorry,” he told her.

“It’s all right. I’ll tell Pepper tomorrow, she’ll punish Tony on my behalf.”

Bruce chuckled and went back to the puzzle as she returned to her baby food making.

She had assumed that her son suddenly and immediately grasping cursing would be the strangest thing to happen to her that week. At least until two days later, when her doorbell rang just as she was putting Ruby down for her midmorning nap. Almost nobody used the bell, normally just having JARVIS tell her they were there. That was either bad news or someone trying to be polite.

Patting Ruby lightly, she left her in her pod and went to open the door, finding Maria Hill and Natasha Romanov on the other side. They both looked calm and pleasant, but for a moment fear tightened her chest. “Is everything okay?”

Nat lifted her hands in a placating gesture. “Fine, everything’s fine. We just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh. Of course, come in.” She stepped back, holding the door open for them to enter.

“We’ve been reviewing the footage of the lab explosion,” Maria said. “And you calming down the Hulk.

Violet closed the door and twisted her fingers together in an attempt not to fidget. “Is . . . did I do something wrong?” She’d been under the distinct impression everyone was varying levels of impressed and pleased at her actions.

Nat gave her a reassuring smile. “No, of course not. Our interest is figuring out a way to . . . bottle what you did. Our new Hulk Policy in the Tower is now ‘get Violet’ but that’s not really an option when on mission.”

“Calling a Code Green is rare,” Maria added. “But it does happen, and when the dust settles if can be hard to get the genie back in the bottle so evac can commence. We’d like to brainstorm some ideas with you. See if we can streamline the process.”

There was something to be said for a couple of badass Avenger ladies coming to a tiny little ex-school teacher for help in dealing with their enormous green friend. Something she had begun to notice, and greatly appreciate, about the motley crew of people that worked and lived here was that they seemed to respect talent in whatever form it came in. She would never build an army of robots or find another realm or kick a bad guy’s ass. But she could watch their kids and calm their resident Hulk. And that made her valuable and worthy of respect.

She smiled and gestured towards her kitchen. “Would you like some coffee?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is my birthday :) Go check out my tumblr to see what Olives made me.

“Something I’ve noticed.”

Bruce closed his eyes briefly, then looked upwards, at the drop tile ceiling. When Tony used that tone of voice it usually meant something utterly offensive or embarrassing was coming next. It didn’t actually matter what he responded with, Tony was going to say it regardless. It was simpler to just play along. “What is it you’ve noticed?”

“You know you do this particular breathing things when you’re trying to talk the Other Guy down?”

“Not consciously, but I’m not surprised. There is a certain meditative aspect to keeping him under wraps.”

“You did it a lot this spring. Daily, some weeks.”  “Is there a point, Tony? Because some of us do actual work while-”

He barreled on as if Bruce hadn’t spoken, of course. “And ever since the explosion a couple months back I haven’t heard you do it. At all.”

Jesus he needed stupider friends. “Tony-”

“Could it be,” he continued, strolling the length of the lab table. “That something happened that day to put the Other Guy in a good mood?”

Bruce took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Say it. Just say it. I needed to get laid. Happy?”

Tony feigned shock. “I was merely going to suggest you need to let him out to play a little more often. If you are insinuating that I have some sort of unhealthy interest in your _sex life_ then-”

“Would you like to see Him now, Tony? I can let Him out to play now if you think it would be healthy.”

Tony grinned at him. An honest, happy expression that bled some of the iron out of Bruce’s spine. “I’m happy for you, man.”

Friendship with Tony Stark meant actual emotions had to be come at sideways. You ended up having rather touching moments while kind of irritated with the man. “Thank you.”

“Nice that something around here is working out,” he added, half under his breath, poking at something on his terminal.

“Stumped on something?” Bruce asked, happy for the offered subject change.

“Yeah but it’s nothing new.” With a flick of his wrist Tony tossed the simulation he was looking at into the middle of the room, revealing a tangle of yellow and red lines.

Bruce recognized it immediately and blew out a breath through his nose. Tony was nothing if not consistent. “Ultron again?”

“Yes, Ultron again.” He sounded irritated, though Bruce wasn’t certain if it was at him or the program that still wouldn’t cooperate. “There’s something I’m missing, Bruce. It’s small and subtle and I should be able to see it but I can’t.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day, Tony.”

“It would have been if I’d built it.”

He slipped his glasses back on and studied the swirl of circuitry. Crossing his arms, he leaned on his lab table. He actually rather liked working on Ultron, despite the frustrations and set backs. It was a pretty piece of software engineering, almost zen in its design. “We could have someone else look at it,” he suggested. “We are not the be all and end all of program design.”

“I don’t want to bring more people in.” Tony strolled around the image. “Too many cooks aren’t going to do us any good.”

“You don’t want to risk someone telling Pepper.”

Tony groaned and looked at him. “That’s not-”

“Wasn’t a question.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Maybe you just need to take a break on it. Work on some other projects, see if something shakes loose.”

He stared at the image another moment, then flicked his fingers, sending it back to his terminal. “You’re right. When you’re right, you’re right and you’re right.” He picked up his phone and poked at something. “I promise, when we’re in Hawaii, I won’t mention it at all.”

It took Bruce a moment to parse the last part of that. He’d actually turned back to his work before the thing about Hawaii filtered through. Turning back to Tony he said, “When we’re in Hawaii?”

“Next week. Pepper and I are going to Hawaii for our annual vacation that I am required to take to keep her happy.” He glanced up at Bruce. “An unhappy CEO does not a good home life make.”

“Right. I remember last year you sent me schematics at three in the morning.”

“It was only ten to me.”

“Fine. What does that have to do with me?”

Tony did a dramatic eyeroll as if Bruce had just said something completely idiotic. “We’re bringing Violet and the kids. So Pepper and I can island hop for dinner or something and not worry about dragging Ruby everywhere.”

It was becoming rapidly clear that Tony had missed his calling as a yenta. “Tony I am not inviting myself-”

“You spend every night there. Do you even go to your place anymore at all? Other than to change clothes?”

“We really need to talk about how much JARVIS tracks us.” He couldn’t deny it, because, well, he didn’t even go down there for clothing changes much. He had a drawer and two feet of closet space at Violet’s. Somewhere in the last month or two she’d started doing his laundry for him. He hadn’t had a reason to go down to his apartment in at least two or three weeks. That was not necessarily something Tony needed to know. “I know you haven’t had what most people would call a normal relationship in. . . ever in your life. But spending time together is usually how it starts out.”

“All the more reason you wouldn’t want to be apart for over two weeks while she’s six thousand miles away. What are you going to do? Watch baseball and eat TV dinners and hope the Other Guy doesn’t get impatient waiting for her to come back?”

Bruce blew out a breath. That was. . . actually a good point. “I controlled the Other Guy for a long time before her. She helps. So do the kids. But I think I can manage. She can’t be tied to me twenty-four seven.” He firmly turned away from Tony, hoping that might be the end of the conversation. “If it gets bad I can head up to the cabin.” Even as he said it, he felt a shiver of distaste at the idea. The cabin had always been a place of solace for him. But now he got moments of that peace all the time, sitting with Violet or playing with the kids. The idea of going out to the middle of nowhere alone no longer held the same appeal.

Tony clapped him on the shoulder, wrapping an arm across his back. “Or,” he said, tapping on Bruce’s terminal to bring up pictures of the Hawaii estate. “You could spend eighteen days in paradise. Private beach. Cabana. Staff waiting on you hand and foot. Kids playing in the surf while Violet lays next to you in a tiny little bathing suit.”

Not going to pursue that mental image while Tony was invading his personal space. “Eighteen days?”

“We need to get back for the girl’s first day of school. Did I mention the private beach? In August the water’s as warm as a bathtub. You will reach a level of relaxation previously thought impossible.”

The pictures _were_ very nice. Tropical flowers framed the yard in splashes of vibrant color. There was an outdoor dining area and living room that looked out at the water. Tony even had pictures of what was presumably the guest room, with a large king sized bed and attached bath with a shower that easily looked big enough for two. Tension drained from his shoulders just looking at them.

“I’ll talk to Violet about it, all right?” Maybe she wouldn’t want him to come. Maybe she’d been looking forward to a break.

“Good.” Tony released him and stepped away, leaving the pictures up. “While we’re there would be a great time to renovate your apartment. Add room for the kids.”

Was that a hot tub on the lanai- “Wait, what?” He looked up to see Tony slipping out the door. “Tony? Tony get back here!”

*

Traveling with two children was kind of a nightmare. Neil’s issues made it even more complicated. It was a big reason Violet hadn’t done much vacationing since Hal had died. Traveling with two kids, a genius billionaire, a CEO of a fortune 500 company and their infant was a whole different level of complicated. She had spent the last two days coordinating with Pepper’s assistant Jess arranging schedules and food and drink that the kids would eat for the Hawaii house and the plane. Not to mention trying to find time to buy clothes for her and the kids that would be appropriate for the trip.

She hadn’t owned a bathing suit since before her pregnancy with Neil. It was probably against the law to go to Hawaii without at least one swim suit. She was online, scrolling though a long series of boring, sturdy, one piece suits that would hold up to chasing kids across the beach and carrying Neil around while he adjusted to the new environment, when Bruce came home from work.

The opening of the door surprised her and she glanced at the clock. “Are you early?”

“I am.” He set his messenger bag on the floor by the door and came over to join her on the couch. “Tony wasn’t feeling productive today, so I couldn’t get anything done.”

“And so you just gave up?” she asked leaning in for a hello kiss.

“Sometimes it’s for the best.” He leaned his forehead on hers and took a deep breath. “How was your day?”

“Busy. Planning for Hawaii.” He lifted his head a little. “Oh, right. I’m going to Hawaii with Tony, Pepper and Ruby.”

“I know. Apparently, I’m also going.”

She grinned and leaned back to look at him, face falling when she saw his expression. “You don’t want to go?”

“No. I mean- I do. I do want to go. It’s just. . . Tony was meddling a bit and he has ulterior motives and -” He took a breath. “I need to talk to you about something and I’m afraid it’s going to be a little awkward and I hate that.”

Violet propped an arm on the back of the couch, shifting back to give him space. “Would it be easier if you didn’t have to look at me?” He glanced at her in surprise. “Eye contact is difficult for you when you’re having a pleasant conversation, I imagine it’s very stressful to maintain it when you’re afraid I’ll be upset.”

He smiled, looking remarkably relieved. “It would be easier if I could address my remarks to the floor, yes.” She smiled and gestured for him to go on. He nodded and braced his arms on his knees, hands dangling and spoke to a middle spot on the carpet. “JARVIS tracks a lot of things. Metrics, habits. He’s noted, because Tony has an unhealthy interest in my personal life, that I don’t sleep in my apartment anymore.”

“It has been a while,” she agreed, keeping her voice calm and neutral.

“He - Tony - is concerned that this floor isn’t properly reinforced in case the Other Guy came out. Other people live next to you, below you. Staying here as much as I do. . . it’s a security risk. Even with you to talk me down. So he talked to Thor and Steve, who share walls with my apartment and they agreed to donate some of their square footage so that we could move walls and make space for the kids rooms. He’d keep this place as a proper day care, since you’ll be taking care of Edie Barnes soon. And he and Pepper are talking about another embryo transfer in a couple years, though I think it’s a little early to make that decision.”

She waited a moment to make sure he’d run out of steam before saying, still calmly, “Tony thinks you and I should move in together.”

“Yes.” He jumped a little, as if he’d realized what he’d said. “No! I mean, he does but I, also think - I mean, I wouldn’t mind. . .” He sighed and covered his face in his hands. “The floor didn’t make it that much easier.”

Laughing would probably hurt his feelings. She did find him particularly adorable when he was being befuddled. She slid an arm around his shoulders and tangled her fingers in his hair, winding a loose curl around her index finger. “We met nine months ago this week.”

Bruce looked like he couldn’t tell if he was confused or relieved at the change of topic. “Right before Thanksgiving.”

“Yes. My mother once told me to date someone a year before moving in with them or committing to them. But I feel like you and I have been though a least a year’s worth of stuff in our nine months.” He smirked and chuckled, nodded and she took that as a good sign he was relaxing. So she pressed forward. “I love you. I’d love to live with you, have you help raise my kids full time. But I only want to do it if _you_ want to. Really want to, not because Tony thinks it’s a good idea or because the Other Guy might break my floor. And I need you to admit that this - us - we’re more than just today. You’ve been making me promises for weeks now, whether you realize it or not.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. His back muscles had grown tense under her arm while she’d been talking. But when he spoke his voice was soft and affectionate. “I love you, too.” He glanced at her shyly. “I should have started with that, shouldn’t I?”

“It probably would have set a better tone.” She brushed his hair out of his face, careful to avoid his glasses. “This is your opportunity to end this conversation and give it more thought without any fear of repercussions.”

She assumed he’d take the offer. The scant handful of times they’d danced around this topic he had very much been in the “no future planning” camp. She had come to accept it, more or less. Actions spoke louder than words and everything he had done for and with her and the kids said he was in this for keeps. But some conversations still needed to be had.

"I planned a life with Betty," he said quietly, addressing his remarks to the floor again. "Before the accident and the Other Guy. Had it all planned out. She was willing. . . even afterwards. It was my decision to leave."

"Do you regret it?"

"Sometimes." He glanced at her as if to determine if he'd offended her or not. "For a long time she represented everything I lost. What he took from me. When I started getting a handle on it I thought. . . a few months before we met I asked JARVIS to track her down for me. She was happy. Working, making discoveries. With someone new. It seemed serious. Maybe she would have wanted to see me, drop him and be with me again. I thought about it. Planned it all out in my head. Like a movie." He glanced at her again, this time with a wry smile.

She returned it. "Conversations I practice never seem to go the way I've rehearsed."

"That's been my experience as well." Sighing, he shook his head and kept talking, this time at her and not the floor. "I didn't do it. It didn't seem fair. All evidence pointed to her being happy. I'd upended her life once. It seemed selfish to do it again. I resigned myself to being alone. Uncle Bruce in a building full of love and children." He smiled, really smiled, this time. "And then I met you."

He reached over and took her hand, bringing it to his mouth to kissed her palm. "I love you. I'd like to build a life with you. It scares me. And I'm still mostly convinced it's going to blow up in my face. But denying it didn't work and living in limbo isn't fair to you or the kids. So, yes. I would like you to move in with me. Help you raise your kids. See what the future holds together."

Violet choked back a sniffle. That had, in some ways, been more romantic than the wedding proposal Hal had given her all those years ago. She wrapped both arms around Bruce and kissed him. He lifted her into his lap, holding her to his chest. "This is a yes?"

"It's a yes," she confirmed. "Though I feel the need to reiterate I hate packing."

He kissed her. "In that case, I'll see it's done for you. They'll do everything while we're in Hawaii. Renovations, packing and moving your stuff. You won't lift a finger."

"Goodness, dating Tony Stark's friend has its advantages." He pressed a kiss behind her ear, breathing in her scent. "In that case, would you like to help me pick out a bathing suit?"

"Mmm. Yes, but I may need to do a quick inspection. To get your measurements."

She giggled as he started to tip her back onto the couch. "That was terrible. you've been hanging out around Tony too long."

"His lines are much worse," he mumbled into her collar bone, tugging her shirt down.

"Dr. Bruce!" Ada shrieked from the front door, tearing across the room to tackle him on the couch. A very embarrassed looking Jane Foster was at the door and Violet waved a hand at her.

 _Sorry_ Jane mouthed closing the door as Bruce sat up, peeling Ada off his back as she excitedly told him about her day.

"Welcome to parenthood," she stage whispered, kissing the top of his head as she stood. 

He looked up and grinned at her, possibly the happiest she had ever seen him. Something inside her that had been slightly out of place since Hal had died settled and smoothed out. For the longest time she had hoped for some miracle to make her life better, to fix what had been broken when she'd been made a widow and single mother. When it hadn't happened she'd tried to resign herself to a life alone, much as Bruce said he had. He had been wholly unexpected. Not safe, not simple. Not what she would have picked for her and her kids. But she loved him. And her kids loved him. And he loved them all back. And she knew that as long as they had that, they'd figure out the rest. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last chapter, so the fic will be ending on Thursday, just in time for our Ultron adaption _Heavy Boots of Lead_ to start.

Hawaii was as peaceful and beautiful as Tony had promised. Despite the long flight and the two meltdowns they'd had to endure from the kids, as soon as they stepped off the plane and took a deep breath of warm, tropical perfumed air, everyone visibly relaxed.

Tony's estate resembled nothing so much as a small resort, complete with staff and amenities. By day two Ada and Neil had obviously become accustomed to the life of a billionaire and were campaigning to never go back.

Ada had taken to the ocean like a fish, paddling around in the mild current while Bruce or Tony or Pepper stood close to drag her to shore if she got too far out or surprised by a rough wave. Violet didn't set foot in the water until the third day as Neil was _very suspicious_ of the enormous swimming pool with a current and refused to get anywhere near it or even let her put him down. He spent their beach time firmly on Violet's lap, on a lounge chair, staring at the ocean as if he expected it to reach out and snatch him at any moment. Tony kept offering to just toss him in, to Violet's displeasure, until Bruce offered to let the Other Guy out long enough to toss _Tony_ out into the water. 

On day three Neil finally let Bruce pick him up and wade into the water. With patience learned from years of meditation and reasoning with an angry toddler far bigger than this one, he carried the little boy out, inch by inch, until he was up to his waist and the water was brushing Neil's toes. The next time he kicked, it sent up a splash of water. The little boy froze and Bruce watched his face to see the exact moment he realized that this might actually be fun. 

Ten minutes later Neil was happily laying in the water, kicking, as Bruce dragged him along. Violet sat at the water's edge, legs getting buried by the breakers, looking at him like he'd hung the moon. It was one of those utterly perfect moments you kept and treasured forever, taking it out again and again when things got hard.

It quickly became clear that Tony and Pepper had brought Violet, Bruce and the kids less so Violet could continue her not-a-nanny duties and more so that Bruce would actually go on vacation with his family. They hopped to Oahu a couple of nights, leaving Ruby with them, but for the most part they insisted on letting Violet have fun with her own children, or the two families worked together to wrangle all three.

The Other Guy was buried so deep Bruce barely even thought of him. Only once, when Ada was missing for a few minutes and there was a fear she'd gone down to the water alone, did he feel any sort of stirring in the back of his head. It was accompanied by a feeling not of rage but of protectiveness and fear. He had no doubt that if anyone ever did try to take one of the kids the Other Guy would rip them limb from limb and not ruffle a hair on Ada or Neil's head in the process. Ada was quickly found in the garden watching a butterfly and the Other Guy settled immediately. Bruce had an image of him sprawled in his subconscious like a cat, soaking in the relaxation hormones and having his own vacation.

One night, halfway through the trip, he lay with Violet out on the private lanai attached to their bedroom. The kids were fast asleep, exhausted from a day of seashell hunting and sand castle building. Violet was wearing the tiny little bathing suit she only wore for lounging or night swims when the kids weren't around. He needed to send a box of chocolates to whoever had convinced her to buy it. She had started to get a slight tan, noticeable only when one saw her tan lines, which kind of made it their little secret. He had no idea why he found that so sexy.

"You were supposed to be telling me what stars we were looking at," she scolded softly as he let his hand wander her back.

"That was just my cunning excuse to get you out here," he told her, inhaling a breath of her hair.

"Bru-uce."

"Not even living together and the nagging has begun." He shifted her so she was mostly on top of him, back to his chest, looking up at the clear, star studded sky. He scanned a moment, then pointed. "See those four? That look like a crooked diamond?" She nodded. "Those and the two just to the upper right at the lyre."

"Like the musical instrument?"

"Yes. We get most of our constellations from the Romans. Native American and Asian astronomers saw different things. Over there is Cygnus, the swan."

"It looks more like a bat, to me."

He laughed a little, dropping his hand to flatten it on her stomach. "A bat?"

"With its wings spread out. I'd expect a swan to have more neck." If she noticed his hand was wandering again she had apparently decided to let it slide as long as the astronomy lesson continued.

"Over on the right is Sagittarius, the archer," he told her, kissing her neck.

"Just looks like a bunch of stars to me," she said, shifting a little.

His cock responded immediately to her little wiggle and he let his hand dip lower, finding the little bow on one hip that held her suit bottom to her. "Relax your eyes and tell me what you see. It's like finding shapes in clouds."

It was possible her breath had quickened a little, but her voice was steady when she spoke. "It's more like. . . someone dancing. Or being dipped in a kiss. But they don't have a partner."

He undid the little bow and slipped his hand across the span of her hips to tug at the other. "So if you had been born in ancient Rome people born in late august and early September would be ballerinas and not Sagittariuses."

"Is that really the Latin word for dancer?" The second tie came loose and he nudged the suit aside to slide his hand down between her legs. " _Bruce_ , we're outside."

"It's a private lanai,” he told her. “The kids are asleep. Tony and Pepper are on the other side of the building.” He dipped his fingers low, found her starting to grow damp. “Live a little.”

She gave a little sigh that sounded like acceptance, leaning back into him. He stroked his fingers over the folds of her sex, spreading her moisture, before swirling his fingers around her clit.

 

Her breathing stuttered and she shifted against him again. He kept circling the little bud, slowly. Stroking back and forth would get her off quicker. But circles lead to a harder, more intense orgasm. He wanted this to last, to enjoy the sights and sounds and smells of the night air as he teased her.

Early on, right after they’d started sleeping together, she’d teased him, laughing, that he treated foreplay like an experiment. He’d told her it was the best way to learn anything. In truth, he had always been fascinated by women’s bodies. From the time he was sixteen and his girl friend had shimmied out of her Catholic school skirt on the couch in his parent’s basement, to the warm, supple woman currently in his arms, and all the women and girls in between he loved finding out all the things that made them gasp and moan and come. Education had solved some of the mysteries. But understanding nerve bundles and blood flow and the release of endorphins didn’t lessen the fun of finding out all tricks to bringing a lover pleasure.

For example, Violet had a particular spot on her neck, just under her ear, that was as sensitive as anything that had been hidden under her bathing suit. He pressed a kiss there now, scraping the skin with his teeth. She shuddered in response, gasping. To add to the assault, he lifted his other hand to cup her breast through the lycra of her suit. He could feel her nipple pressing against the fabric. It was easy enough to slide the strap of her suit down and slide his hand into the cup to stroke her skin, plucking her already taut nipple between his fingers.

She gave a little moan that sounded like his name. He kissed that spot on her neck again and dipped his fingers lower, until he could slide two into her body. The heel of his hand rubbed against her clit as he stroked those fingers in and out of her. Her legs shifted restlessly and she lifted up to his hand, whimpering. He released her breast to wrap that arm around her waist and hold her still, pressing his palm against her firmer.

“That’s it, honey,” he murmured against her ear. She whimpered, hips bucking up. He felt the first pulses of her climax start around his fingers and he growled, tightening his arm again. She shook, gasping, and he pet her through it, drawing her pleasure out until she went limp.

He kissed her neck, the side of her face, waiting as she panted and came down. When she hummed and stirred he took it as his cue to help her turn around and tug his swim shorts down.

Violet kissed him, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she lowered herself down, sinking him into her slick heat. He tipped his head back, groaning at the feel of her closing around him. When she’d taken him to the hilt, he slid his hand up her body and untied her suit top, letting it flutter to the ground, so she was naked and lit by the low hanging moon.

“You really are beautiful,” he whispered, cupping one breast in his hand. He spent a lot of time marveling at his luck in finding her. Right now she looked like a goddess of old, all pale skin and curves, backed by the ocean and exotic flowers. 

She smiled brilliantly at the compliment and leaned down to kiss him again as she started to rock on him. He let her move, hands roaming her body. Her pace steadily quickened and he had to close his eyes as the sensations overwhelmed him. The ripples of her second climax were starting to tighten around him just as he let go. He arched up into her, the hot pleasure of his release sweeping through him.

When he came back to himself she had collapsed onto his chest. He lifted a hand and stroked her hair, breathing in a lungful of ocean salt, plumeria, and the spicy vanilla scent that was Violet. “This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time,” he said softly. “Maybe since before the accident.”

Violet hummed softly and nuzzled his chest. “This is a perfect moment.”

“Do you think it will last?” he asked her.

“No.” She lifted her head and shifted to kiss him. “But I think we’ll make more.”

He cupped her face in his hands kissed her gently. “Yes. I think we will.”

*

Violet woke the next morning to a gentle, persistent pinging noise coming from the ceiling. She was really pretty determined to ignore it. After their perfect moment on the lounge chair she and Bruce had come inside and managed another round of special grown-up time before falling asleep. It was technically morning, she could even see sun out the wall of windows. But she was in no way prepared to be awake.

The pinging increased in volume and frequency until Bruce growled and she lifted her head. “JARVIS, I love you but you are _extremely_ irritating.”

“Apologies, Mrs. Marsh,” he said and in her fatigue she thought he actually did sound contrite. “But there is urgent news from New York and Mr. Stark needs Dr. Banner immediately.”

“He could have just knocked,” Bruce grumbled, rolling onto his back.

“I believe there was some concern that such an interruption would bring out ‘The Other Guy.’”

Bruce glared impotently at the ceiling and Violet chuckled, curling up against his side. “You should go see what he wants,” she said softly.

“If I do it will probably ruin my vacation,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around her.

“If Tony ruins your vacation you can probably convince him to pay you for another one.”

He made a little impressed face. “That’s a very good point.” His hand wandered down to cup her rear. “What if I had other plans for the morning?”

She laughed and kissed his shoulder. “I think you’ll be carrying them out alone. Some of us are a little sore.”

When he spoke next there was obvious concern in his tone. “I hurt you?”

“No. You made me sore. Very different thing.” She kissed his cheek. “Go see Tony. I’m going to shower.”

“Yes, dear,” he grumbled. He paused long enough to kiss her properly, rolling her onto her back to do it thoroughly. Then he got up with a groan and tugged some shorts and a shirt on before heading out into the main part of the house.

Violet waited for a few seconds to listen for yelling or - worst case - roaring. When there was nothing but silence and the distant sounds of the ocean she climbed slowly out of bed and padded to the bathroom to shower.

The hot water washed away the worst of the soreness and woke her up despite the lack of sleep. A large cup of the positively life changing coffee they had here would solve the rest of her problems. Even if Tony did manage to ruin the vacation with whatever was going on in New York, this was still the best vacation she had ever had. She honestly didn’t remember the last time she had been this relaxed. Possibly on her honeymoon with Hal. Actually, now that she thought of it, there had been a certain honeymoon vibe to the whole endeavor. Probably best not to read too much into that. They could start with moving in together and think about anything else later.

She certainly wouldn’t be thinking about how cute Ada would look in a flower girl dress.

When she got back out to the bedroom she found Neil rummaging through her suitcase. “What’re you doing?” she asked him, tightening her towel around her.

He looked up at her as if he couldn’t tell if he was in trouble or not. “iPad?” he squeaked hopefully.

Ada had her own tablet, which she was extremely protective of. Neil used Violet’s iPad so she could limit his usage to educational apps and therapy work. She picked it up off the nightstand, unlocked the code and handed it to him.

“Gank-oo!” he called, darting out of the room. She chuckled, shaking her head as she got dressed and went out in search of that coffee.

Bruce and Tony were nowhere to be seen, but Pepper was at the kitchen table feeding Ruby. Ada was at the table as well, with a bowl of cereal and a glass of chocolate milk that she was clutching like it was coffee at the end of a three day bender.

“Late night?” Violet asked her daughter.

She made a little grumbly noise and nodded. Violet rumpled her hair on her way to the coffee pot. “Do you know what’s happening with the boys?” she asked Pepper.

The red head shook her head. “Maria Hill called an hour ago but he took it privately. I suspect it’s team business, but I suppose we’ll find out when they emerge.”

Violet poured herself a cup of coffee and perused the pastry selection. They had a chef on staff here, but after the first couple of days it became obvious that no one wanted to wake up for breakfast at a consistent hour. So he had begun making coffee cakes and danishes and leaving them out for them to pick at at their leisure. He’d made up for it with elaborate lunches and dinner.

She had just sat down with her coffee and her apple turnover when Bruce and Tony came out. “So,” Tony said, heading to the coffee pot. “Bad news, we have to head back to New York.”

Pepper looked disappointed but unsurprised. “How long do we have to pack?”

“Technically, you, Violet, and the kids have as much time as you like. Bruce and I are leaving as soon as he puts food in himself.”

Violet looked up at Bruce as he slipped into the chair next to her. He looked some combination of grumpy and pensive. She reached over and rubbed his back, which got a little smile before he started digging into his pile of doughnuts.

“They found the scepter,” Tony was saying and she turned to give him her attention again. “Loki’s scepter. Hydra’s using it for human testing in one of those old Soviet states with too many constants.”

“Sokovia,” Bruce mumbled around his breakfast.

Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “That. Whole team is gearing up. So Bruce and I will take the quinjet that we all pretend isn’t parked out back and you ladies can follow in the comfortable one whenever you want.”

Pepper looked over at her. “Do you want to stay out the week?”

Before she could answer Ada turned and looked at her. “If we go early I can go to the meteor demonstration at the planetarium.”

She had the only seven year old on the planet who would rather leave Hawaii to go to a museum. Smiling, she turned back to Pepper. “We can leave whenever you like.”

Hiding a smile, Pepper sipped her coffee. “Let’s take today, have some beach time, pack at our leisure. Fly overnight and maybe the kids will sleep through it.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” She looked back at Ada. “We’ll be home Tuesday, will that get you there in time for the planetarium?” She nodded enthusiastically. “That’s settled, then.”

An hour later, she walked with Bruce up the path towards the air field. “I’m really sorry about this,” he said, for what was probably the fifth or sixth time.

“This is not ruining our vacation,” she told him patiently. “We had a great time and Ada gets to go home in time for science. It’s win-win.”

He managed a smile. “I’m not looking forward to this mission.”

“I know,” she said softly, reaching out to hold his hand. “But it’s important. And the team needs you.”

They reached the airfield, the quinjet already fired up. They stopped at the edge and Bruce turned to her. “I’m going to have to let the Other Guy out. Nat can usually talk him down when the mission is over but. . . He’s used to you now, I’m afraid he won’t. . .”

She smiled and touched his cheek. “Is that all? Sweetie, I’m way ahead of you.”

His brows went up and he leaned his head back a little. “What do you mean?”

“Nat, Maria and I got together to figure out a way to bottle, well, me. I recorded myself reading Ada a bed time story. Nat is going to put it over the comms when it’s time to calm the big guy down. We’re hoping the sound of my voice will be enough. If not, we have plans B through G to go through.”

He stared at her a moment, then grinned widely and cupped her face before leaning in to kiss her. “I love you. Thank you.”

There was a place for perfect moments, tangled and sweaty under a sky full of stars. But for Violet it had always been the little, sweet, subtle things that built love. Anticipating needs, taking the garbage out even though it’s the other one’s turn. Knowing exactly how they take their coffee or what to order for them at the breakfast place you’ve been going to for years.

When he lifted his head she touched his cheek again. “Be safe. I will see you soon.”

He nodded, gave her another little peck on the forehead and headed towards the jet.


	14. Chapter 14

That night she found herself on Tony Stark’s private jet, kids asleep in a pile in one of the bedrooms, Ruby snoring quietly in her pod. Violet and Pepper had settled in the main part of the cabin, in comfortable seats that were far closer to armchairs than any plane seats Violet had ever experienced.

Pepper handed her a glass of Chardonnay out of a bottle that probably cost more than Violet’s first car. Living in the Tower had forced her to reevaluate what she thought expensive meant.

As if reading her thoughts, Pepper said, "Tony is very fond of being in his own environment. So he wanted to have a plane we could, well, live on. Like the world’s largest RV. With wings."

Violet sipped her wine. "You know, sometimes I think Neil and Tony have a lot in common."

"Neil may handle disappointment better."

She chuckled and relaxed into her chair, enjoying the child free quiet. "Hal, my late husband, wasn't a traveler. We had a bit of a fight about our honeymoon."

"Where did you go?"

"England. I wanted to see the Globe and Jane Austen's house and every other nerdy famous author things you can think of. He wanted to go to the Jersey Shore."

Pepper laughed. "There's nothing wrong with the beach, I suppose."

"Not at all. We went often when I was a kid. But your honeymoon should be somewhere special. A once in a life time event." She glanced around the plane. "Well, for some of us. Though maybe now I can try again. I bet Bruce wouldn't mind visiting England," she added with a smile.

Pepper returned the smile, sipping her wine."Tony was so happy he was willing to come to Hawaii. Bruce needed a vacation. A real one, anyway. He's got a place up in the mountains he likes to go to, I think. When the Other Guy is bothering him."

"Oh, he mentioned that. I told him it sounded very Thoreau and he shook his head and called me an English teacher in a particular way he has that makes it sound like a pet name."

They were quiet for a few moments, then Pepper said quietly, "I admit, I like having an experienced mom in the building. I mean—I know you're younger than me. So it might sound terrible. But my mother died when I was kid. I have nobody to call. I like being able to ask you questions."

"I understand. I called my mother constantly when Ada was a baby."

"More than that, I'm glad Bruce met someone with kids," Pepper continued. "I always thought he'd be a good dad."

"He's a wonderful father," Violet said, feeling an odd mix of pride and affection. "And my children are not easy to parent, especially if you aren't used to kids. Neil warmed up to him so quickly. Bruce seems to. . . just get him. It's been so lovely to watch."

"I take it he told you about the kid thing?" She scrunched up her nose. "I hope so, else I just made something super awkward."

Violet laughed a little. "No, he did. He did. The first night we were. . . together. He was very adamant we have birth control and I asked." She lifted a shoulder. "It's sad, because as you said, he'd be a great father. But he swears he enjoys borrowing mine." Wrinkling her nose, she admitted, "I actually ended up giggling a bit. I had this image of a toddler sized Hulk having a tantrum. It lightened the moment, at least."

"Wow," Pepper said. "Oh my God, now I can't stop seeing it."

"Right? With the fists?" Violet waved hers to demonstrate.

Pepper laughed out loud. "It would really be kind of adorable." After a moment, she sobered. “I suppose that's something you'd have to square with. Never having more, and what you'd have to do if you had an accident."

"I spoke to Amanda about it briefly. She said best and most likely case is that nothing viable will stick. But that worst case, would be, unfortunately, maternal death." She shrugged and took a slightly-too-big gulp of wine. “I'd entertained the idea of having more if I ever met someone else. But I love my kids, and I love Bruce. I'm fine if I that’s all the family I have."

"Your kids are pretty awesome."

She smiled widely. "Thank you, I think so, as well."

*

_“But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat. . ."_

Bruce put his hands over the big, noise blocking headphones he was listening to. Violet’s voice continued, calm and soothing, reading _The Little Prince_. She and Ada had finished it before the Hawaii trip, so she must have handed this off to Nat and Hill weeks ago. 

It had worked like a charm. The change from being the Other Guy hadn’t been exactly pleasant. But he’d managed to keep conscious long enough to pull on the sweatshirt Nat had handed him and get on the plane. He’d spent most of the flight back home drifting to the sound of Violet’s voice and the adventures of the little prince visiting different, not so subtle planets.

_"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me. . ."_

Bruce was starting to suspect the choice in books had been not so subtle, as well. Maybe he’d make requests for the next one.

Nat crouched down into his eye line and he moved the head phones off. “How you doing?” she asked, studying his face.

“Better than I have any right to be.” He tapped the headphones. “Worked like a charm.”

She smiled and glanced over her shoulder to where Doc was working on Barton. Bruce wondered if she was even aware she did it. “How is he doing?” he asked when she looked back at him.

“Stable,” Doc said loud enough for him to hear. “And still Barton. Let me finish stitching you,” she added in an extremely annoyed tone.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Bruce muttered, making Nat smile.

“He’d be a lot worse if the Other Guy hadn’t taken out that bunker,” she told him. “Glad you tagged along this time.”

Bruce lifted a shoulder in an awkward shrug, not entirely sure what to say to that. She seemed to understand, patting his shoulder.

“Landing in ten minutes!” Tony called from the cockpit. “Assuming I don’t clip a building and kill us all.”

Behind Nat, Barton started trying to get up. “Get out of my seat, I’ll do it.”

Nat stood, shaking her head, and went to help Doc hold him down.

The landing wasn’t the smoothest on record. He could almost hear Barton judging Tony in the corner. When the ramp opened Doc and Nat took him off in his stretcher first and the rest of them filed afterwards, Steve and Bucky carrying the crate holding the scepter.

Pepper, Jane, and Violet were manning the Wife Line. The last little bit of tension drained out of him when he saw her standing there. He, Tony and Thor moved almost in unison to go greet their women with hugs and kisses.

“No Sharon?” Steve called on his way past.

“Had a meeting,” Pepper answered, apparently inspecting Tony for injury. “Said she would meet you at home in the workout room.”

“I have to assume that’s a euphemism for something,” Tony said, earning him a smack from Pepper.

Bruce shook his head and kissed Violet. “Thank you for the recording.”

She beamed proudly and leaned back to do her own inspection. “How did it go? Other Guy a team player?”

Before he could answer Thor slapped him on the back and said, just a little too loud, “The gates of Hel are filled with the screams of his victims.”

Apparently, the fact that Bruce, Jane, Tony, and Pepper all face-palmed at once was enough to tip the Asgardian off that that wasn’t the best of boasts. Violet, bless her, managed to keep a polite, encouraging smile on her face.

“But not screams of the dead, of course,” Thor continued quickly. “Wounded screams. Mainly whimpering. A great deal of complaining and tales of sprained deltoids and. . . gout.”

“Thank you, Thor,” Violet said.

Jane took his arm to steer him away. “And on that note-”

“Bruce can I borrow you a minute?” Tony asked. 

Bruce made a face at him, but Violet gave him a pat and he went over to speak with the other man. “You are interrupting my touching reunion.”

“Your clothes were still on, it can’t have been that touching.” Bruce closed his eyes and groaned as Tony continued. “Thor’s giving us three days with the scepter.”

“We’re messing with the creepy, evil, alien stick? Didn’t that go poorly last time?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll do it right this time. JARVIS is already running tests. Says he’ll have something in a couple of hours So if you could just meet me back in the lab in a couple of hours. . .”

Bruce sighed and glanced back at Violet, waiting for him at the elevator. “I am going to my apartment. I am visiting with her and the kids. We’re going to have dinner. I will help tuck the kids in.” Tony opened his mouth and he cut him off. “Yes, I will almost certainly have sex. Then - and only then - will I come to the lab and poke at the stick with you.”

Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “See. That’s all I ask.”

Violet had a very patient smile when he reached her. “Working tonight?”

“Later,” he said, kissing her temple as they stepped into the elevator. “After the kids are in bed.”

“Oh, before I forget, Ada is grounded from the internet.”

“What did she do to deserve this cruel and unusual punishment?”

“Her room was not cleaned at the agreed upon time.”

He found himself grinning like an idiot as the elevator at how extremely normal it all was. Dinner and bedtimes and groundings over a messy room. Interesting work with a someone he considered a friend, aggravating as he might be. Other friends to share success with. To watch his back when he needed them to. It was the sort of life he’d long ago thought lost to him.

_I don’t every time get what I want._

And yet, sometimes, he managed to get exactly that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your extremely kind comments on this story. They meant the world to me.
> 
>  
> 
> Bruce and Violet (and the kids!) will return in _Heavy Boots of Lead_ coming August 1st.


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